


Inside, Outside

by Xaori



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Author apologies, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, F/M, Flashbacks, Guys punching each other in the face, Multi, Rape, Smut, Sunglasses, Too many boring action scenes, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 157,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaori/pseuds/Xaori
Summary: It took them seventeen years to accept what they meant to each other. Now that they could finally live together in peace and harmony, mistakes from the past seem to threaten their happiness. A child that will someday kill its mother, the mind of a terrorist stuck in the body of a teenager and an evil guy fanboying around are only three of the problems they will have to face.





	1. The Now (Prologue)

**Prologue**

**The Now**

_God gives and God takes away_

_Desperation isn't new to me. The feeling used to haunt me some time ago, before I knew the life I live today. Every time I woke up alone wondering if the breaking day would be my last or my penultimate, or if I'd need to live some more with this consuming uncertainty about my future. There were people in my life, of course; living, human beings; people who respected me; but no one I could call a family. Nobody who would have really cared if I'd just faded away some day. Noticed, maybe; but not cared. But everything changed when she came into my life. I got so much more than someone to keep me warm at night. She gave me shelter, a family and a second chance. She is with me and everything is perfect - our own kind of perfect. She is my all, everything I need. The reason why I went through so many complications. After all this time I can't imagine my life without her._

_But I feel I'm losing her slowly._

_And my sanity along with her._


	2. The No

_When Claire laid her little niece into his arms, it once again reinforced his feeling of having been completely lost and wrong all those years. What he wanted, he had directly in front of him. Claire was his little piece of normal life, his home, and even though they had only been together for half a year, he wanted her to be with him forever. And he wanted her to know it._

" _Are you asking me if I want to marry you?" Her voice was shaking as she asked._

_Yeah. That was probably what had come to his mind again when he held Chris' and Jill's little daughter in his arms and noticed how much she resembled her aunt. A family of his own with Claire? Leon couldn't hold back a wide smile._

" _I am."_

* * *

 

**\- I -**

**The No**

"How much?"

She wasn't a fool and hated to be taken for one. She had always known the facts, as clear as they could be, printed out onto a piece of paper with the distinctive BSAA Lab stamp on it.  _Infected. T-Phobos Positive_ , the report said. While the T-Virus could be declared eradicated in a matter of minutes thanks to several vaccines and antidotes, the T-Phobos had turned out to be a very tricky and resistant strain of the good old T-virus. It hadn't taken the TerraSave and BSAA scientists very long to put it into a dormant state. But a cure? As long as there was no real pandemic threat, nobody would allow any lab to invest more time and money on finding a vaccine. And it would never become a pandemic when the strain was not contagious and only three infected remained on the planet. It was harmless. Not even Chris' efforts had been able to advance the process. Nevertheless, having proven to be strong enough to survive the virus, Claire was allowed a relatively normal life.

But even so, she had always thought she hadn't been granted the right to have a family. Although she had been told that the T-Phobos virus wouldn't be passed to her children, she never felt confident enough to see a real chance to become a mother, having been exposed to viral infections way too often to just freely plan a peaceful motherhood. Over time, that certainty had burrowed into her mind, infecting and mutating the dream of her own future. And Claire had come to terms with this. Even after Leon had shown a softer, more emotional side when their little niece Summer was around, she had accepted that she wouldn't give him a child of their own blood.

It was all Rebecca's fault. Rebecca had given her hope and had encouraged her to try; had told her that the chance to give such a weak, dormant strain to her child was all but impossible; had made her see a false version of reality; had even run tests to make sure. But, of course, nothing would ever be that easy for Claire, and the previous, almost impossible probabilities of complications had suddenly grown into the likelihood that she'd never survive a pregnancy. Caused by hormonal fluctuations due to pregnancy, the virus had mutated into a more resistant, contagious strain, and the disappointment was too heavy to bear.

"Sixty-two point two?"

"Point seven." Rebecca took her hand. "I'm so sorry Claire."

Sixty-two point seven was the probability she had given the virus to the child inside her, making it mutate in stressful, scary situations. Bottom line, her child could turn into a monster inside her womb or on its way out, meaning that she herself would probably get eaten or simply ripped apart by her own son or daughter from the inside. Not the prettiest way to die. Claire swallowed as she laid her hand onto her two-month-pregnant belly under her white blouse. A sixty-two point seven percent probability of becoming her child's first meal was a very high one. But sixty-two point seven percent meant there was still a thirty-seven point three percent of surviving, along with Leon's child in her arms. Her eyes narrowed as she cocked her head aside.

"I can't stop this right now."

"You have to, Claire." Rebecca jumped off her seat. "As a scientist fighting bioterrorism and your friend I can't let you take such a high risk." A doubtful gaze crawled up her face as she sat down again. "I'm not going to recommend this, but the correct thing for you to do would be to abort." She cleared her throat hesitantly. "You should also use protection during sexual intercourse from now on. Kissing is okay, though."

The redhead shook her head in disbelief as she blew out a breath. This was getting worse with every second. She looked down at her hands, turning the small gold ring around her finger. It felt like a huge burden she had put onto Leon's shoulders, and something she'd never wanted him to go through.

"I think I can handle the idea." She bit her lip. "But it's difficult to accept when I'm not the only one this virus is keeping from having children, or a normal marriage with sex."

"There are other ways you can have kids," Rebecca whispered as they stood up and walked to the door. "You can still adopt, Claire. I'm sure Leon's position in the government will give you some advantages."

The redhead could just nod in approval, tired of having the same conversation over and over again with every single one of her friends. Adopting was a difficult administrative process with long waiting lists and critical acceptance conditions. Savior or not, Claire had been told that she'd either give up travelling to threatened zones for a living or that she could say goodbye the possibility of ever being given a child. After that statement, they hadn't even considered it necessary to answer the question about Leon's occupation.

"Maybe in a future."

* * *

 

Chris scowled at O'Brian. He'd imagined the meeting with his old director to be more exciting. But every time Clive showed up, he brought some crazy ideas with him that eventually caused the whole B.S.A.A. North America Branch to drown in chaos, reorganizing equipment, budgets and positions. Even though they had brought results more than once, this time, his idea was just plain stupid.

"This is just plain stupid." Chris crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And I'm not gonna listen to any more."

Clive shook his head. "Chris," he said trying to give his long-time friend a comforting smile. "Think about it. There are former employees of Umbrella working there. We can't just let them run freely creating weapons."

The issue was the new Umbrella Corporation. After the destruction of the pharmaceutical company that had caused so many deaths, some genius among the bigwigs had come up with the idea of creating a new company to build anti-B.O.W. weapons. Whose idea it had been to call it the Umbrella Corporation and change their corporate colors to blue to give it a completely new image, they weren't sure. However, ever since the company's rebirth, it had become one of the focuses of both laughs and mistrust of the whole B.S.A.A..

Chris rolled his eyes, making him look like a school boy who'd got too much homework, "But the government is already watching over them."

Clive threw a skeptical glance at him, "You mean people like Derek Simmons?"

Sure. As if Clive's decisions had never been a complete failure. Wasn't he better off at home writing his dumb little novels? Chris blew out an impatient breath.

"Why me?"

"Chris, look." Clive cleared his throat. "You're not getting any younger. It's more peaceful than and probably not as dangerous as the field."

"You think I can't handle my job any more, isn't it?" Chris grimaced. While other founding members had taken a step back from more active services and positions, he had always refused to give up his role as captain of the S.O.U., gaining destructive criticism from his superiors and coworkers due to the multiple losses among his lines.

"That is not what I mean." O'Brian leaned back in his seat. "And I'm not forcing you. I just want you to think about it. It would be a nice alternative for your current life, and give you more time for yourself, your family." He licked his lips and folded his hand upon the table. "How is Jill?"

"Home," he hissed.

"I didn't ask about her whereabouts." Clive raised an eyebrow as Chris's look snapped to him-intense.

"She's-" He blew out a shaky breath. "She's not taking motherhood very well."

That was minimizing the awful truth. Although the first weeks after the very complicated pregnancy and labor had been peaceful, Jill had soon shown symptoms of a postpartum depression. Not even the blessing of a family could be free of troubles and issues. And though he still loved her and would have done anything to help her, he couldn't stop blaming and even hating her for being so selfish. And he knew she was hating him too.

"I would like to pay her a visit someday if that's possible."

Chris nodded shyly. His visit would surely cheer her up. Or at least make her see things from a different angle.

"Take her out if you can."

* * *

 

The oppressing sound of her heels reverbed through the hollow space as she walked down the hospital hall. What a disappointing morning it had been. Barely worth the exciting expectation the pregnancy had first made her feel. Claire put on her sunglasses as her steps guided her towards the entrance. She'd call Leon later. First she'd have to deal with the urge to smoke a cigarette and to punch a wall. Chewing gum would help with the first one.

As soon as she exited the hospital to head to the parking lot, a strong hand held her back. Joy spread over her face as she saw the face of the man behind her.

"Barry! What -" She was surprised to find him in the hospital. "Is everything okay?" Her friend laughed.

"Yes, more or less." He answered. "I'm here with Natalia. She's been dragging a bad cough for the last two months. Now I finally managed to get her here." He shook his head and smirked. "Looks like a pneumonia. It's just a routine procedure, but they want to keep her here for a few days, so I'm staying with her."

She cocked her head and smiled at him. He tried to shrug it off with a little smile, but Claire knew he was deeply concerned about the girl. Barry was probably the best example to show how one could love someone else's child as if it was their own. She herself had actually always seen him as a father figure, and she felt the need to spend some time with him.

"You know what? I'm free right now," she said as she took her sunglasses back off, and slid them into her handbag. "I'll stay awhile with you." She laid her arm around Barry and followed him back into the building.

"That is very nice Claire. I was just catching a coffee. Do you want anything?" Claire shook her head.

"No, thanks." She smiled widely. "So, how are Kathy and Polly?"

"Great." Barry pushed some coins through the slot of the coffee vending machine. "Polly is preparing for her year abroad. Kathy is going crazy, of course. Our daughters are growing up." He laughed tinged with a slight sadness around his eyes. "And we are getting old."

Claire smirked. "You? Never! Barry and Kathy Burton are our immortal rocks." She laughed, leaning against the wall next to the machine, with her arms crossed over her chest. "Please say hi to them both for me."

"I will," Barry said after the beep sound told him his coffee was ready. He bent down to get his steaming cup. "You say hi to Moira. I haven't seen her in two months."

"We're very busy lately." Claire laid her hand onto her belly. "And I'm suggesting her for my position once this one comes out."

"You would really do that?" His eyes opened in grateful surprise. "That would be a huge opportunity for Moira."

"I can't think of anyone else better prepared than her." She shrugged amusedly at Barry's proud grin.

"So, how is little Kennedy doing?" He laughed. "And the big one?"

Claire chuckled shyly. Big Kennedy was alright for now as he hadn't received the terrible news yet.

"They're both fine," she lied. She hadn't made her mind up completely about what she was going to do. Maybe travelling to an abandoned island would be a nice way to spend the remainder of her pregnancy without putting anyone else in danger. Her lips drew a smile as she thought about her family; a family which was actually turning shit. After their wedding and later month-long honeymoon, Leon hadn't stopped working, recovering all the time he had missed. Unfortunately, Claire couldn't be with her husband. Right after coming back from their trip, she had caught depressed Jill almost choking Summer with a pillow. Since Chris was spending more time than ever with the B.S.A.A., she had decided to stay with her sister-in-law, distracting her as good as she could and making sure she was taking her meds. On top of that, Sherry was constantly arguing with Jake, sometimes calling Claire in the middle of the night, only to talk. It seemed like bioterrorism wasn't as bad as real life problems, and she sometimes felt like she was stuck in a soap opera.

The sound of her cellphone brought her back to the most current reality. "Sorry Barry, I have to get this," she murmured happily as she saw Leon's name appear on the display. "Hey darling." She smiled at Barry as she listened to her husband on the line. "I see. Sorry sweetheart, I had to get some stuff done. Really? You'll be here tomorrow?" She drew a wide smile onto her lips. "Yes, sure, let's meet for breakfast. Denny's? Fantastic. I love you too. I miss you. See you tomorrow."

As soon as she hung up, she looked back at Barry.

"So you're going to meet your lucky husband tomorrow," he exclaimed laughing loud. "I'm happy for you. You haven't seen each other in a while."

"Yes," she nodded suddenly looking at her watch. "Damnit, I totally forgot I have an appointment in an hour."

Barry laughed loudly at her apologizing smirk.

"Then you better get going." He laid his hand on her shoulder. "But don't work too hard and eat more. You look too thin."

Claire couldn't keep the tears from shooting into her eyes as she nodded at him. Barry's presence made everything better. If their father had still been alive, he would have been very much like Barry Burton. She swung her arms around his wide body and buried her face in his chest.

"Take care, Barry. I wish Natalia gets better soon." She looked up. "And call me if you need anything."

"I will, Claire." He fatherly stroked her auburn ponytail before she turned around and left the hospital.

* * *

 

Jill dropped into the armchair, not wishing to move ever again. It had taken her the whole afternoon to put Summer to sleep, whose first teeth were emerging through her swollen gums and were not only giving herself but also her mother a pretty hard time. The blonde yawned widely. At least the girl had finally fallen asleep, or fainted due to exhaustion. Who knew?

"Time for mommy to take a rest, too." Jill whispered to herself as she sunk into the cushions, the sweet smell of carrots stinging into her nose from the dry baby pap stains on her shirt. Being a mother was more demanding than anyone could have ever told her. Kathy Burton had been by her side with all kind of advice as mother and nurse. Also Claire had been helping her all through her pregnancy, labor and afterwards. She was so lucky to have such good friends. As far as she knew, her father had been completely alone after her mother had disappeared. How had he, a complete and utter wreck of a man, managed to raise her all by himself without completely messing her up? She had grown into a pretty normal woman after all.

Okay, she wasn't doing well lately, but thanks to that new medication she was receiving everything seemed lighter. Except her body. Her body felt heavier than ever. She smiled sarcastically. If only her husband could come home and help her. She felt her fingers curl into tight fists. As soon as the trouble had started, Chris was gone. Not gone like her mother had been. Gone working, always saving the world. She loved him unconditionally for making her the happiest woman alive, mother of a wonderful child; and she hated him equally for not taking care of that little bagpipe of a kid himself instead of fighting bioterrorism day and night. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Don't be cruel, Jill," she said to herself as she slowly drifted away.

She woke to the sound of the turning lock.

"Oh, sorry sweetie," Claire whispered as she turned the lights on. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Jill smiled shyly, still trying to open her eyes.

"What time is it?" she asked as soon as she noticed that the sun had already set.

"Seven thirty." Claire ripped the shoes off her feet and left them on the floor, before walking barefeet into the kitchen and having a look at the inside of the freezer.

The blonde blinked at her, still confused.

"Isn't Chris here?"

That question was absurd. Chris hadn't come home in days. Claire had called the B.S.A.A several times to make sure her brother was still alive. Apparently, he was. But if it took him much longer to come home to his family she'd definitely murder him sooner or later. The redhead glanced back at her friend, grimacing slightly.

"What do you want for dinner?" She tried a cheerful tone and a bright smile to raise the blonde's mood. Jill stood up and dragged herself into the kitchen. She faked a smile, but failed.

"I'm not hungry." A sigh left her lips. "And I'm getting fat."

Claire knitted a brow.

"Stop talking bullshit Jill. You've gained some healthy weight after your radical postpartum express diet. And it's all just because of the meds."

Jill sat at the counter and gave her friend a guilty look.

"Do you think he doesn't come home because he doesn't find me attractive anymore?"

 _Not again._ They had had the exact same conversation hundreds, maybe thousands of times before. Jill drowning in self-pity was a pretty hard issue to deal with and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find the self-confident, tough B.S.A.A. soldier anywhere in the woman in front of her. She sighed as she took the blonde's hand. Jill hated being home, tied to a household and child without working wasn't doing her any good. Chris could've helped her but he literally abandoned his family. All of them, including his sister. And poor Jill was, once again, struggling with everything alone. If Claire had known that Chris loved his work more than he loved his own wife, she would have forced Jill to divorce him. Claire knew better though.

"You know what?" She smiled amusedly. "You should go out. I'll take care of Summer."

"You want me to go out alone?"

Claire shrugged. She'd often gone out alone. Movies, for instance, had to be enjoyed alone, she thought. But Jill needed company. Someone else than her year-old daughter, if possible. She tried to think of someone else to watch after Summer so she could join her friend, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Jill threw a questioning gaze at the redhead as she walked to the door.

"Clive! What a surprise," Jill exhaled. Claire observed the scene with skepticism. The blonde sounded far from surprised. Rather bored.

"Hey Jill. How is my favorite ass-kicking girl?" He laughed, causing the blonde to politely laugh.

"Lately I'm just ass-cleaning." She giggled at her own joke as she opened the door wide. "Come in."

"Have you had dinner yet?" He asked. "I heard there's a new Chinese restaurant in town and-"

"She hasn't!" Claire jumped happily towards the man and stretched her hand out. "It's good to see you again, Mister O'Brian."

Clive shook her hand.

"It's good to see you too, Miss Red- wait, I heard you are married now. Congratulations, by the way." He smirked at her. "I guess more than one man cried his heart out that day."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes giggling.

"As far as I know, only Chris did." She turned to Jill, who was fidgeting her feet nervously. "Go get ready for dinner. I'll stay here with Summer." The blonde gave her a doubtful glance but finally nodded before running into the bathroom. Dinner out would surely be nice, even if it was just with her former director.

"I'll be right back."

Claire exchanged glances with O'Brian. "Thank you."

He shook his head.

"No need to." He sighed. "Had I known she was taking it so bad I would have come earlier."

"She's not herself anymore." The redhead grimaced sadly. "Being held in this normal housewife life is killing her. Talk to her about work. Distract her - make her remember how it used to be."

Clive nodded. Talking about work was what he had in mind anyway. He wanted to know Jill's opinion about the plans he had for Chris, hoping to get her support.

Summer woke up as soon as her mother had left the house.  _Perfect timing._  Something she had inherited from her father, for sure. Claire changed her diapers and prepared her a bottle, before having dinner herself and thinking about the recent news. She was glad and excited she'd meet Leon the next morning. She needed him. Before going to bed she took a picture of her niece and sent it to Chris.

 _'Tick, tick, tick. I'm pretty sure your daughter will soon start calling me_ Dad _. The question is: Will you be there to hear it?'_

* * *

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. The burning pain on his cornea caused his vision to blur. The symptoms were painful; the diagnose, easy. Lack of sleep. Not even the  _espresso_ coffee was helping much to keep him awake. He had a look at his watch. It was almost midnight. Maybe he should just go home and rest. Home. Home was an idea he didn't enjoy any more. Because at home there was Jill. And where Jill was, there was trouble, arguments, screaming, destruction and unbridled rage. He didn't know how to help her, so he kept working, knowing that Claire was taking care of his wife and child, playing the role of the man of the house more than he was, sending him pictures and mocking messages he never answered. Just like the one before. Chris tapped his finger over the pile of unfinished reports there were still left and counted them, analyzing if they would keep him busy long enough to spend another night at the office. He sighed. Who was he trying to fool? There was never enough work to keep him away. He'd have to find another excuse to sleep on the couch next to his desk.

And that's where he went after turning the light off, slowly dragging himself over to the shiny brown leather-covered furniture. It wasn't comfortable, but it was better than sleeping with his head and arms resting on the desk and his ass on the chair. He sighed. The moon poured its light into the room and over that picture in the frame next to the couch. It showed him, Jill and other S.T.A.R.S. members before that fateful night in July 1998. How young they'd all been. It had been long before they'd become a couple, before she had done the unspeakable to save him from being killed by Wesker; even before the B.S.A.A. existed.

Damn. How much he'd loved her back then. He still did. But back then, everything about Jill had been mysterious and beautiful and just sexy. Yes, she'd been incredibly sexy with her full breasts and her hard ass stuffed into the tight uniforms, but it had been against regulations to have a romantic relationship with one of his co-workers. From the very beginning, work, friendship and respect didn't let him try to get into her pants. He sighed deeply, remembering that one night around 2004 when he'd come to the B.S.A.A. headquarters to train his lack of sleep away; when he had found Jill exercising as well, packed into tight sweatpants and a black tank top. She'd forgotten her towel to dry the sweat on her forehead and had used the shirt instead, allowing him a look at her grey, sweaty sports bra as she had pulled the hem up to her face. That had gotten him hard. He'd had seen her in her underwear several times when they had to share a bedroom on assignments, but that night, that hint of a sight had just made him wish to throw her onto the floor and fuck her until the break of dawn.

He breathed in deeply, his hand driving slowly downwards, surpassing the waistband of his pants, until it found his dick, grabbed it tightly. He knew she wouldn't have rejected him that night, she'd have done wonderful things to him and to his parts. Those things she'd used to do all those years after they'd started dating. Because Jill Valentine had an almost insatiable sexual appetite. And he'd had her in every possible position, using all kinds of toys and lubes and even costumes. He smirked remembering her dressed up as that ridiculously hot pirate and how he'd taken her twice in a row without letting her take the dress off.

Not really aware of what he was doing, Chris took his shirt off and threw it onto the floor next to him, unfastened his belt to get better access to his dick, and stroked himself. No other woman had ever had the chance to get him hard without even being in front of him. Only Jill. The night after their first meeting he had masturbated in the shower, thinking of those precious tits of hers and how they swung elegantly up and down with every step she made. He and several other S.T.A.R.S. members had been wondering if she'd been wearing a bra.

Her amazing breasts just popped back onto his mind as his hand was giving him the pleasure he longed for, something he hadn't felt for too long. His head fell back onto the armrest. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, imagining himself in his younger days making love to Jill on his desk in the S.T.A.R.S. office, or, even better, on Wesker's desk. He pictured himself ripping her shirt off her breasts. And no, in his fantasy she didn't wear a bra, letting her hard nipples point directly at him. The strokes on his member became faster and faster as his mind drifted away to a past that had never happened. At least not the way he was seeing it right now, himself penetrating her, as she bent over Wesker's desk. He would have been so mad.

"Oh Jill," he gasped into the cold darkness of his office when he felt his orgasm approach, spilling his load all over his stomach as the spasms ran through his body and the heat filled him completely. He licked his lip again and sighed heavily as he put his arm behind his head. His eyes kept closed, wishing he could be with 'the old Jill' again. He loved every inch of her body. And he missed her, her skin, her touch. In the last months of the pregnancy Jill had to rest and hadn’t been allowed sexual intercourse. Of course, he had understood. After Summer was born, the sleepless nights had started and she hadn't felt like having sex, and he had understood. Claire had come to help so they could rest and everything seemed to improve, but Jill had gotten depressed. She couldn't bear being touched anymore, but he had understood, knowing that she’d get over it someday. But someday didn’t seem to come.

Something he wasn't able to get of out his head was the unbearable control Jill was having over him, even to the point that pleasure itself was snuffed out entirely and he felt judged and guilty for what he had done. A tight grip seemed to strangle him slowly, sucking the life out of him as he lay on that couch in his office. What would Jill think if she saw him in that shape, his heart and head twisted in knots? Eyebrows furrowed, a frown marring his lips, he slowly surrendered to sleep. How could she make him feel so guilty about something so natural without even being around?

* * *

 

His eye twitched as he looked at the map the hot chick had brought him. He'd been hesitant about working with a woman with a resume like hers, wondering how anyone could trust her. People who were likely to switch sides only for money weren't worth someone of his caliber. He acted out of conviction; worked for a purpose, a superior state of mind. It was what had made him accept that crazy job offer, along with curiosity, of course. He looked up to the woman in front, who fidgeted waiting for an answer. It made him pity her. Did she have something to live for? A purpose? A desire? Someone to love? The only thing admirable about her was her clean work. He licked his lips and focused on the map again. The place she had found was indeed ideal for its purpose.

"Good job." He cleared his throat.

"What's next?" She arched a brow. He typed something into the computer on the desk.

"You take care of DC," he mumbled as she pulled a beeping device out of her pocket and looked at it.

"Bill Richardson?" she asked, surprised by the fainting expression of hatred on the man's face, or the little she could see of it in the dim light. "How is he related to this job?"

He smirked coldly. "Let's make a deal, beautiful," he hissed as he shoved a silver suitcase over the surface. "I reduce your payment five percent every time you ask a question you shouldn't."

The woman rolled her eyes and put the device away to grab the case.

"I'll get back to you as soon as this is done." Turning on her heels, she started walking to the exit.

"Wong!" Ada coolly turned around, giving him a doubtful glance. "This is the most important part of the mission. Don't mess up."

"I never fail." Her heels echoing against the dark metal warehouse walls, fading into silence. As she exited by the bay, she took into account her new job. The disgusting places this guy had picked for their meetings made her doubt him and question the consequences of ageing as a spy. In her younger days, men had wanted to meet her in luxurious hotel suites, shiny casinos or expensive lounges, even though at the end of the day, the jobs always smelled like death and rotten flesh. Ada sighed, no matter, she'd have to find a place to set up her operation. Her new job required that she had to slip a virus sample into the bag of a journalist. Easy, too easy.

She had a look at the information she'd been sent about Richardson. He'd be covering a conference the President was going to give the following day. So he wanted her in Washington as soon as possible. She sighed. What was he trying to hide from her and why was it so urgent that journalist got arrested?

She needed to find out what that guy was hiding. But she'd have to take care of Richardson first. A well-paying job like this one needed to be done quickly and efficiently, but Ada couldn't help but love the intrigue surrounding her mystery employer. She smirked, lips curling, "Let's see how this one unfolds." She slowly turned and slipped into the night as the water lapped against the pier and the world waited for tomorrow.

 


	3. The Again

_He strolled through the hospital halls, feeling oddly happy. He hadn't slept well knowing Claire had been among the missing TerraSave members. Several days had passed before some fishermen found her by accident. Now she was back, the sole survivor of a massacre. Even Burton's girl had died. Poor Claire was surely destroyed over her death. She and Moira had been good friends and he knew she was eager to go back to that island to look for her body. He had brought her candy to cheer her up, not knowing if it would work, but he tried._

" _Two forty-one, two, three." He mumbled, reading the numbers next to the doors, knowing he was approaching Claire's room._

" _You should eat something," he overheard a male nurse who was just walking out of the door. "Maybe next time you're strong enough to fight me." He had barely closed the door behind him when a loud bang and shatter of glass was heard from the inside, like a vase hitting the wall. The nurse looked shocked, almost frightened. He shook his head and walked towards Leon, faking a wide smile as they crossed paths._

_The agent smirked. Destroyed? No. Claire wasn't destroyed, sad or broken. Until everything was over, she wouldn't allow herself to grieve. And nothing was over yet. Not until they knew what had exactly happened. Until then, she was just as mad as hell._

_And hungry._

_And she needed to get out of there._

_The supervising scientist had apparently already found out that the virus she'd been infected with was not a real threat. Nothing would be able to trigger it. She wasn't contagious and it was harmless to her now. They had taken scores of samples, but nobody had given them permission to keep investigating the virus. However, the mayor had wanted her locked away in the lab to avoid a general panic among the citizens. Luckily Leon had been able to accelerate the process to get her out of there as soon as possible._

_He knocked hesitantly, afraid of how he would be received. The last time they had spoken, they had a short discussion about Claire's tumultuous love life. There was still something that bothered him about what they talked. Thanks to Chris and his concerns, Leon had found out that Claire had been having an affair with her boss, an empty, lust-filled relationship that left her empty inside. He sighed. Something was wrong about the idea of his friend having that kind of relationship. Claire Redfield was tough, independent and a badass, no doubt. But he had never known and would never know anyone as nice and warm-hearted as she was. Claire was the girl who'd looked for her brother and hadn't stopped until she'd found him. The girl who would protect the smile of an innocent child with her life. The one who'd take in those who were lost. To him, Claire Redfield seemed the perfect housewife and mother. Someone who fitted so perfectly into the image of a lovely family, that he had always thought her incapable of having unrestrained sex without love._

_He would have to get used to it._

**\- II -**

**The Again**

The restaurant was highly crowded when Claire arrived. It smelled like burnt butter and coffee, causing her to gag a bit.

"Mommy is starving, my dear." She rubbed her stomach. "Please let me have breakfast in peace."

"We can go somewhere else if you don't like the smell." She turned around when she heard Leon's voice behind her, immediately throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips onto his as if she was never letting him go again. Lucky that she could still kiss him without danger. She needed him so much. She hadn't been able to tell him about the recent news on the phone. "Oh," he gasped. "I missed you too. Sorry for not coming earlier." He caressed her cheek with his hand as he stared into her eyes. What Leon saw in them hit him hard. "What's wrong, Claire?"

"I went to see Rebecca yesterday." Her doubtful look snapped up, begging for comprehension. She didn't want to explain, not with words. It would only cause her to cry in the middle of the restaurant.

Leon frowned, until her hesitant head shake confirmed the worst. He pulled her into him, letting her hide in his chest.

"It's alright." He kissed her hair. "We're gonna make it through this." Pushing her head up, he placed a tiny kiss on her mouth, giving her the most comforting smile he could muster. "Come on," he cocked his head. "First let's have breakfast. Then you'll tell me everything." The couple found an empty booth by the windows. As the waitress dropped off menus and polite introductions to the specials of the day, Claire gazed out the windows, watching the people pass by, until Leon drew her back to the table and the reality that this wasn't going to be an easy conversation to have.

* * *

 

"Are you sure you have enough with that? Wouldn't you prefer some pancakes?" Leon asked pointing at the fruit salad his wife had chosen.

Claire shook her head.

"I'm fine with this." Of course she'd have devoured a dozen pancakes floating in maple syrup, but she'd chosen a more healthy, less greasy alternative for herself and for the baby.

Leon sighed into his coffee cup. He had barely touched his meal.

"I'm so sorry darling." He swung the cup around, glaring how the jitter juice covered the surface with a dense coat that poured down way too slowly. It was nearly caramel. "I shouldn't have rushed to get you out of the lab back then. Maybe then they would have found a cure."

Claire took his hand, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"Oh, darling. They already knew I was out of danger. They would have dismissed me shortly after that," she whispered, stroking her thumb over the back of Leon's hand and the ring on his finger. "Back then I wasn't contagious, so there was no need for them to waste resources on the research."

Leon shrugged.

"Maybe. I guess we will have to focus on other ways to get a child." He took a sip from his drink, then lifting an eyebrow at the thoughts racing in his head. "I already knew I wouldn't do this job forever. I would make a good houseman." He smirked amusedly in a desperate attempt to make the situation lighter for Claire. "I'm sure once I get that lemon pie recipe from Kathy Burton, nobody would ever doubt that ours is the best home for adoptive children."

Claire giggled, shaking her head incredulously at him.

"Very tempting. But that won't be necessary for now." She gave him a comforting, confident glance. "I still want to try to and go ahead with this pregnancy."

The agent stared at her, not quite knowing if she was serious about her statement or seriously making fun of him. He decided to frown in disbelief, just in case.

"What?"

Claire's grin widened as she started nodding happily.

"The probability of an infection is not alarmingly high. And even if I gave the virus to our child it would require a very traumatic situation to make it mutate."

"Like being born, maybe?" He threw an angry look at his wife. She was known for being stubborn and impulsive and he'd always loved that side of her, even when they were just friends. But risking her life didn't fall under what he considered understandable. "What's more traumatic than being ripped out of the warmth that has been your world for nine months?"

"I'm sure there are ways to make it easier," she said, almost begging him to understand her.

"Claire," Leon replied shaking his head with narrowed eyes. "Give it up, please. It's not worth it."

Her eyes opened wide. Not worth it? Were they talking about the same thing? Because she considered that the life of their child was indeed worth it. It was worth every effort, every try, every hint of fear. She confusedly focused on her plate, poking absentmindedly through her fruit slices and ignoring her husband and his insisting glance. The food didn't seem appetizing any longer, and the only thing she really wanted was a bed with thick covers to hide under.

"How come you don't understand this?"

"Claire," Leon took her hand, but she pulled it back. "Of course I understand." She finally managed to look at him. "But I'm not willing to stake what we already have."

"But we've come so far already. It's just half a year longer and-"

"Claire, stop it!" His voice rose. "I'm not letting you risk your life for an infected child."

Her teeth snapped together with a dull sound. How could he? It was also his child he was talking about so contemptuously. A strange pressure crawled up her throat. It wasn't morning sickness; it was anger, hatred even. Tears filled her eyes and clouded her vision as everything started unraveling. She saw herself abandoned by the one person who had promised to always stand beside her. Her grip tightened around her fork until her knuckles turned white. Leon frowned. "Claire, please."

"How dare you?" She hissed, pushing the bottom of the fork onto the table as if she tried to pierce it. "I really thought I could rely on you, Leon. Because, you know, we made this together." Her left hand went to her stomach. Leon looked around. His wife was uncomfortably attracting the looks and whispers of the other customers.

"Of course we did and I-"

"And what, Leon?" Claire swallowed. "Now you just want to throw it away as if it was trash? It was supposed to be the result of our love, our trust in each other. But now it doesn't mean anything at all." Her shrill voice caught even the attention of the usually carefree waitress, who approached them to ask if they needed help. Leon lifted his hand, letting her know gratefully that it wasn't needed. He was surely able to handle his hormone-driven wife on his own. He grabbed Claire's hand again.

"Claire, please listen to me." He smiled at her, trying to calm her down.

"Of course," Claire continued. "You don't know how it feels." She put her hand on her stomach. "Because  _you_  haven't been sharing a body with this child for over two months."

He narrowed his eyes. That blow had been a bit below the belt. So she thought he didn't love his child because it wasn't growing inside of him. The theory was so absurd. He had always envied Claire for being more connected with the baby for the simple reason of being a woman. She just knew perfectly where to hurt him when she wanted, drilling her fingers into the fresh wound, scratching, and ripping flesh apart. They didn't manage to say anything else, just kept staring at each other, holding their disappointed gazes until the sound of Leon's phone interrupted their silent fight. Both looked down at the device as it slowly blew the tension away.

"Won't you get that?" Claire suggested after listening patiently to the sound during several seconds.

Leon breathed in loudly and grabbed the phone.

"Kennedy." He lowered his look, trying to avoid Claire's. "What? But I just- Okay. I understand. Get me a ticket for the next flight."

Claire stared at other customers, finding several happy couples among them, even some young families. And she envied them. She looked shyly at her husband as he stood up, exchanging one last glance with him before he threw some dollar notes onto the table.

"Eat some more, Claire." He sighed. "It will make you feel better."

She was tempted to stick her tongue out as she saw him walk out of the restaurant. But that would have probably been really childish. She grabbed the menu instead but no matter how hard she tried to focus, the words blurred as her world started to fall apart and the man she thought she'd married walked away.

* * *

 

A plain man standing on a street corner, wearing sunglasses on a cloudy April morning and doing nothing would have been too suspicious. So he had bought flowers and nervously checked his watch every ten seconds, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Anyone would take him for an everyday normal guy waiting for his date to arrive. Whether pretty or ugly, nobody would care. Every now and then he turned his head to the right, and then to the left, but what he actually never loses sight of is the skyscraper where TerraSave had its headquarters.

_That's where your benefits from the fundraisers go, you swindlers. The last time I was here TerraSave was a tiny start up, an idea to save the world and its innocents._

He had one of his targets already spotted entering the building twenty minutes ago. But the attack would be completely useless if he didn't get them both at once. Soon a cab arrived. A malicious smile spread on his lips as he saw a red haired woman get out of the vehicle and step towards the sliding glass doors.

He lifted the bouquet to his face and smelled the white orchids before pulling out a handgun from his coat. The operation was about to begin.

* * *

 

Leon had made it to the boarding gate right on time. During the drive to the airport he hadn't stopped thinking about what had happened at breakfast and how he had left Claire behind. His anger had already vanished. She was going through a hard time and the hormones weren't making things any easier. He knew exactly how she felt and wanted her to know that he would always be there for her. So, when he found that he had still a minute left before the boarding, he pulled out his phone and dialed his wife's number. Unfortunately, he only reached her mailbox.

"Hey darling," he spoke after the beep. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I am as destroyed about the news as you are. And I truly understand the determination to keep our child, but, sweetheart, I just can't imagine having a family if it's not with you. I never thought I could get to want this. I didn't know I had those feelings until you awakened them in me." He sighed into the phone. His words sounded too emotional for his taste, but it was exactly how he felt. "We can find another way. Nothing matters as long as we're together." He was ready to board. "I'm flying back to Washington now, but I'll call you when I arrive. I love you."

He closed his cell and focused on the incoming and outgoing planes on the air strip, trying to block out the bustle of passengers trying to get to gates or collecting their baggage and the endless noise and chatter filling his ears. Behind him a family with thick French accent tried to ask an airport employee in broken English about transportation services as their children fought with each other over a stuffed toy. He silently cursed the government for the hundredth time for making him fly with commercial airlines instead of offering him a seat in a private jet. In that case, he could have spent a little longer with his wife instead of rushing to the airport and sharing his time on the plane with strangers and their bratty children. He'd make sure his own kids would know how to behave politely in public. His children, their children. He grimaced. What he had told Claire before was true. Before starting his relationship with her he hadn't even thought about having kids himself. To him, she had always been the perfect image of a caring woman and mother, even after he had found out about her relationship with Neil Fisher and all those 'dirty things' he'd always thought she'd turn her nose up at. Even now, after she had done those things with him, he still saw her the same way. He smirked and looked down at his phone again.

A part of him wished to hear Claire's voice before the take-off.

* * *

 

These shoes had surely been a torture device back in the middle ages. She tried to walk across the hallway to Claire's office as straight as she could. Regarding the fact that she usually wore flat sneakers, she probably wasn't doing that bad. With a short knock on the ajar door, she announced her arrival.

"Please call me back when you hear this," Claire whispered into her phone, hanging up quickly as she saw her friend in the door.

"Moira, come in." She stood up to receive her coworker. "I saw your father yesterday in the hospital. You should probably pay your parents a visit soon."

"I know you met. I call them every day, Claire" replied Moira eye-rolling. "I also know that he's there with Natalia. She sounded terrible."

Claire nodded and couldn't hold back a wide, proud smirk as she checked Moira's outfit for the day.

"You look-"

"Ridiculous? Like a clown?" Moira laughed. "I can't even stand in these shoes." She pulled the chair in front of Claire's desk closer to have a seat.

"I was going to say  _professional_ ," Claire praised. Moira was wearing a dark grey pinstripe suit and a shiny silken magenta-pink blouse. Her now mid-length, straight, black hair fell loose over her shoulders and her makeup highlighted softly her beautiful eyes and curvy lips. Beautiful, feminine, but tough. Claire felt proud. She had taught her friend well. "You look perfect."

"Thank you." Moira blushed slightly as a grin creeped up her face as she leaned onto Claire's desk. "So, how do I not mess this up?"

The redhead smirked encouragingly and pulled out a paper envelope from the first drawer of her desk. Moira was about to meet the board of directors, who would evaluate her and either approve or decline Claire's application to make Moira her substitute at the head of the International Operations Department during her maternity leave.

"Don't be nervous," she said and put the papers in front of her friend. "They will first read your resume aloud and ask you if you'd like to add something."

"And I say  _no_." Moira's almost frightened tone made Claire giggle.

"Not if they haven't everything listed," she advised. "Remember that they don't only look for a candidate with experience, but also for a strong leader for this department, so please tell them if there's anything missing."

Moira chewed on her lower lip.

"It will be weird without you around here." She gave her friend a hopeful gaze. "I'm missing you already."

"You'll manage everything fine. And it's not forever." Claire sighed forcing a smile. If Moira knew that right now the most likely was that she wasn't even leaving, she'd have surely been disappointed. Deep inside, the oldest Burton daughter was a very ambitious young lady who could barely wait to be charged with more responsibilities.

"What if I do such a great job that they don't want to give the position back to you when you come back?" The black haired girl lifted her eyebrow teasingly. Claire couldn't hold back a laugh. Very, very ambitious.

"Then I'll be happy to work under your command," she said as a bright smirk suited her lips.

The jangling sound of the alarm made them look up from their task.

"Is that the fire alarm?" Moira asked concerned.

"No, it isn't." Claire's hand reached for the gun in her handbag.

* * *

 

The alarm went off. He opened his eyes abruptly and looked around in shock. He'd dozed off on his couch again. This time he felt his sticky seed spread all over his stomach and grimaced disgusted at his own mess, good thing he always locked his door after hours. He jumped up and grabbed some of the paper tissues he'd stored for Jill in one of those elegant dispensers on his desk, cleaning himself and pulling his shirt back on. The alarm wasn't a good sign. It meant they were needed out there. But it also meant work to do, and he couldn't have been happier about it. The phone on his desk rang.

"Redfield."

"Emergency for Alpha Team." Amanda's cute voice sounded through the speaker. She was the head of their Call center and was in charge of organizing their schedules for emergencies. And she was hot, young and she always bent over pretty far when her pen fell accidentally on the floor next to him. If it hadn't been for Jill, Chris would have invited her out for dinner, or something less elegant, long ago. "Two vehicles are being prepared."

"Any information?" He frowned as he got up in a hurry. It was always nice to know what they were called for.

"We don't know much. But several minor B.O.W.s are attacking TerraSave's headquarters."

Okay, that was enough information. A thick knot grew in his throat; he could barely manage to swallow it.

_Claire._

He breathed. It was time for him to be the man of the house again.

* * *

 

She woke up to the sound of screams, fire and gravel rolling over concrete. It took her some time to understand where she was, where up and down were. Her hand flew intuitively to her belly and stroked lovingly over it. She didn't seem to be hurt, didn't feel any pain in her abdomen. Hopefully, everything was fine. Her desperate try to breathe resulted in a heavy cough attack, though. She removed the thick dust from her nose and lips with her left sleeve. What had happened exactly? They had been attacked. TerraSave had been attacked again, like back in 2011, when Neil Fisher and Alex Wesker had managed to kidnap her and several coworkers, including Moira. But it had been much cleaner and classier back then. Now, the scenario was dirty and chaotic; a true mess. After having shot several Lickers on the main floor of the headquarters, she had been launched through the room by an explosion. She smelled blood. No, she tasted it in her own mouth.

_Get up, Claire._

There was something in her right hand. A smooth, familiar touch. She was still holding her Beretta. Good. After so many misfortunes, it was time for her luck to change. However, as she managed to lift her head, she found she was staring face to face with a lifeless body in front of her, the face covered with what seemed to have been a long, blonde mane once.

"Lindsay," the redhead whispered as she recognized the TerraSave chief secretary, a position she'd still been granted by Neil. She grimaced checking her vital signs, finding none. Supporting her upper body with her left hand and the barrel of her gun, she slowly rose.

A whistling sound reached her ear before footsteps approached. A tall, hooded subject wandered limping through the space, blowing the dark melody of what sounded like a slow but cheerful version of Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor and carrying a body on their shoulders. Claire sucked in a breath as she saw the dusty pinstripe suit. It was Moira. Her Moira. The one she had promised to protect with her life the day the girl had entered TerraSave. She had failed her the day they had all been kidnapped; had failed her when she had run after Neil instead of taking care of her and Natalia; and she had failed when she'd jumped out of Alex Wesker's tower, leaving Moira behind. But this time, she was not going to fail. Claire pushed her body up and slowly managed to stand, pointing her gun at the stranger.

"Don't move," she screamed through the smoke. The figure turned around, showing an impatient attitude even through the opacity of his cloak. Claire's leg hurt, causing her to tremble, but she wasn't going to put her gun down. "Let her go."

The guy in front stood still. She thought she'd have to repeat her words in a more insisting tone when he suddenly shrugged and dropped Moira onto the floor. Claire let go a short scream, but she couldn't lower her guard. The subject moved towards her, limping, but at a decisive pace. She didn't hesitate a second longer. She preferred shooting B.O.W.s rather than living, but she needed to stop the being in front of her. Pointing at the guy's knee, she pulled the trigger. A cold shiver stroked her back like an unwanted touch when he seemed to dodge the shot. Half a second later he had reached her, hit her weapon from her hands and trying to hold on to her arm, her neck, her hair, wherever. Claire dropped herself, causing the enemy to stumble. A quick spin of her legs under his feet made him fall onto the floor and hit it hard. The screaming sound of a male voice sounded weak and dull in the smoky atmosphere. Claire jumped onto her feet to get her gun back. She rushed over the gravel, broken furniture and Lindsay's dead body over to where the weapon had landed, or where she'd sensed it had landed, hearing the cursing words her opponent mumbled behind her.

_Don't look back. Never look back until you know you can kill whatever is behind you._

Her leg failed after a few feet. She almost met the floor, but was quick enough to roll herself over the dirt. Through the dust and darkness she miraculously spotted her gun; reached out her hand, but couldn't reach it.

"Damnit!" she hissed. She pulled herself closer to the weapon, haunted by the steps behind her. Her heartbeat filled her entire body, reached her throat, her ears, up to the point that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her anymore.

"Fuck!" She heard the curse, though; turned her head; saw that something was holding on the foot of her hunter. Something or someone.  _Lindsay!_ Lindsay was alive and was giving her time to react.

She turned back to her gun, crawled quickly over the surface full of death and destruction, still resisting the tight pain that held her leg captive.

"Let go, you whore." The man hissed angrily. Seconds after, she heard a clipping sound followed by a drumming shot. Claire swallowed heavily, speaking a silent prayer for her friend.

She exhaled relieved as her fingers grabbed the gun. Lying on the dirty floor, she turned around, pointing at the man who was stepping closer towards her, aiming for his chest. Her heart seemed to stop. So did he.

They stared at each other. At least, she supposed he was glaring back at her. She slowly managed to get onto her feet again. The man on front of her didn't move, silently observing how she threatened him with her gun.

"Who are you? What do you want?" She shouted, holding her leg as straight as she could. If the pain didn't fade, she'd have serious trouble.

The man smirked victoriously at her.

"Claire Redfield."

"Ken-" she tried to protest as she felt something encircle her neck. Tight. Too tight. So tight she dropped her gun and tried to claw and rip at the moist thing around her throat. A tongue? It was slick and smooth, soft like flesh and strong like a muscle. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything to help herself or Moira, who was still lying unconscious on the floor. As her vision dimmed and her consciousness slipped away, her hands fell limply against her sides and the man in front of her began to limp towards her. When blackness took her, she could only think of the child inside her.


	4. The Under

_As soon as he arrived at the shore of the waterfall, the view took his breath away. The clear lake lay peacefully between cliffs and mountains covered by the greenest trees he had ever seen, and the only sounds that reached his ears was the waterfall. Not even the deafening cicadas could be heard anymore, though, just ten minutes prior they filled the air with unknown songs even they themselves couldn't decipher. Claire had made him walk through the jungle for two hours searching for that hidden spot whilst they became a feast for the mosquitos out there. Now that they had arrived, he knew it had been worth every single step, even the wrong ones._

" _Wow," he whispered as his heart slowed down to the relaxing sound of the falling water. He turned his head to Claire, who seemed as stunned as himself. Her red hair reflected every ray of sunlight that dared to touch it, and she looked gorgeous._

" _Isn't this amazing?" She smiled widely and took another step forward, slowly pulling down the shoulder straps of her backpack. Leon stared amusedly at her, thinking to himself that, even surrounded by so much beauty, the most amazing thing there was still his wife. He smiled, lifting expectantly an eyebrow as he saw her pull her shirt over her head._

" _Uhm, darling, what are you doing?"_

" _What does it look like?" She gave him a naughty look over her shoulder and reached for the clasp of her bra on her back. Her underwear landed on the ground, followed by the rest of her clothes. "Will you join me or do you prefer watching?" She smiled teasingly as she walked backwards into the water._

'The most amazing thing on the whole planet' _, he thought. Taking her teasing as a challenge, Leon took off the cheap olive-green cotton shirt he'd bought specially for the occasion because his wife had told him that it was dumb to explore the South American jungle dressed in a button-down shirt and a leather jacket._

_Claire was already floating peacefully in the water, with her arms and legs spread wide, enjoying the contrast of the hot humid air and cool water on her skin, when Leon walked into the lake._

" _I heard there are huge snakes here," he said laughing._

" _You had never heard anything about this place until this morning," she answered, closing her eyes. "So, who told you? The cicadas?"_

" _Maybe." He smirked as he grabbed her foot under water, causing her to scream._

" _You idiot," she shouted laughing. "I thought my wonderful new husband would protect and save me from snakes instead of scaring me himself."_

_He didn't say anything. He just pulled her closer to him, embracing her as she wrapped her arms and legs around his body, and touching the tip of his nose with hers. She had proven more than once that she could defend herself against snakes, zombies or whatever she'd come across, and he adored her for being such a tough girl. But even if he would never dare to tell her, that moment he promised himself he would always protect her from any threat. She smiled at him and caught his lips with hers as she pressed her breasts against his chest, causing him to chuckle into her kiss._

_His hands drove slowly from her back to her thighs while Claire ran her fingers through his hair, opening her mouth to let their tongues meet, fight and play. They usually tried to suck each other dry, to find that exact spot where they would make them cry out of joy or longing. He loved their wet kisses, whether they were the beginning of a long and exciting foreplay or of a quick and wild one. He pushed their hips together under water, letting her feel his growing erection. She pulled back and gasped for air. He had won that round._

" _I want you," she moaned, barely separating her swollen lips from his._

_Leon chuckled. "I want you too."_

_He caught her mouth again and started slowly walking back, carrying her out of the water. She nibbled on his earlobe as her fingertips softly tickled the skin around his neck, causing him to blow out a breath under her touch as he tried to run towards the shore. They laughed full-throated as he laid her onto the soft earth and gently laid himself on top of her. His lips barely hovered over hers as his left hand explored her hips and stomach and climbed up to her breast. Claire moaned under the teasing torture and pulled him into her pressing her mouth onto his. He broke the kiss once more and stared into her face as she blushed out of disappointment. She looked so cute when she didn't get what she wanted and he couldn't help teasing her. He stroked all over her body, his hands slowly travelling up her sides and shoving her arms up, tangling his finger in hers as he slid his lips over her jaw._

" _Leon, please." He grinned at her cry. Her face showed desperation, pain even. How lovely she was. He decided to end her suffering, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside her either. Without needing any more begging, he spread her legs and drove into her, giving in to the desperate desire to become one with her again. Because inside her was his favorite place to be._

_She arched her back under his movements and thrusts. Reaching out for his face she cupped his jaw, flicking her thumb over his lower lip. He bit it softly. She sucked in a breath. His hands found a place to rest on her hips and pulled her closer. His moves became faster, harder, rougher. She liked it rough. She loved how he looked when he was on top of her. He was all tense muscles, hands, lips and dick, and she loved what he did with all of them. The heated moaning sounds he made when he did it always told her that he loved it too. She loved his hair almost as much as she loved his face. She grinned widely as she shamelessly let a loud moan escape. She also loved the way he looked at her. With his deep penetrating gaze he could probably see right through her. That look was the best thing about him. How could she be so deeply madly in love with him? She rolled her head back and slung her legs tighter around his hips. Leon smirked as she put her arm onto the ground next to her, shifted her weight onto her elbow and slowly pushed her upper body up, flipping him onto his back and climbing on top of him._

" _It's my turn now," she whispered as her hands ran over his toned chest right before her lips crashed onto his again. He panted, stroked her back and shoved off small stones that clung on her skin, lowering his hands slowly until they reached her buttocks. His tight grip helped her move as she began her rhythmic pace on him._

" _Oh, Claire," he gasped, loving what she was doing. Her hips rolled over him and her breasts bobbed with every move. He wanted to taste them, pulled her closer until his lips reached her nipple and bit it. She moaned in lust._

" _Oh, baby," Claire cried as she put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him towards her. His grab on her butt tightened. She shook. "I'm close."_

_Yes, she was. She leaned back as the friction inside her pushed her over the edge. Leon watched her face as she bit her lip. God, she just looked amazing. Before she could relax, he threw her onto her back again, lifted her left leg and hid his face in her neck, while he kept thrusting into her. He reached his climax the moment Claire roughly scratched her nails down his shoulders and grabbing his ass._

_He rolled onto his back to catch his breath again. The cold water lapping his feet seemed to invite him to wash off the sweat and dirt on his body. He turned his head to Claire, who was still panting._

" _Best honeymoon ever," she whispered, giving him an amused look._

" _Best honeymoon ever." He laughed and brought his hand to her cheek, caressing it softly. She laid her own hand on his as she kept staring into his eyes. Yes, he would do everything to protect her, take care of her and keep her safe._

_What he couldn't know, down at the lake, is that on their flight back home Claire would already be carrying another reason to protect her._

* * *

 

**\- III -**

**The Under**

As soon as the van came to stop **,** heavy boots thundered on the floor as the B.S.A.A. stormed what was left of TerraSave. The heavy uniforms the B.S.A.A. soldiers were equipped with were meant to keep them safe from bullets, B.O.W. bites and even stings. But they couldn't ease the respect for the unknown they felt every time they started a fight. Chris wouldn't allow them to lose respect - they were B.S.A.A. soldiers, the front line against bioterrorism. The moment a person feels fear or loses respect for the enemy is the moment you start misjudging and underestimating them. In this line of work, one should never underestimate anything because it would cost you your life and the lives of others who depended on you. Chris had learned that lesson early on in his career.

The smell of destruction, blood and death stung into his nose as he reached TerraSave's main floor; where the reception area and Claire's office has been; where the bomb had gone off leaving a huge hole in the wall. Several bodies lay on the floor, no signs of life anywhere. Even without a closer look he could tell they were dead. He'd check later if one of them was his sister. His heart ached at the thought.

 _Claire, please be alive_.

If anyone had ever told him in his younger days that he would hear dust someday, he'd have laughed. Dust was just an old soldier's tale he had thought until he had experienced it himself. Dust was almost like white sound, like wind but denser; like rustling, only quieter. Only the swooshing sound of turning barrels and the impact of their footsteps on the ground seemed to cut through it.

"Clear." Rory's voice sliced through the dust and tension. The zone seemed secure, empty.

Of course it was. Nothing lived there anymore.

Chris had quickly a closer look at the corpses. Most of them seemed to have been killed in the explosion or the following impact against walls or the floor. Only one of them hadn't died in the blast, a bullet into her head confirmed it. Chris recognized the young woman as the secretary Lindsay Adams. None of the bodies was Claire's.  _Good sign for now, but the secretary's death by gunshot was odd. Why only her?_

His hand flew up to his earpiece.

"Reception hall cleared. We're going farther inside. Over."

A sharp groan coming from the northern hallways caught their attention. Chris advanced slowly, his machine gun lifted, pointing at whatever he could come across. He felt his heartbeat rise into his throat. The sound of dust got louder.

"Captain!"

A red shadow he caught out of the corner of his eye startled him, causing him to turn around, early enough to see one of his men being pulled through the hole in the wall by a long slimy tongue.

"Damnit! Norman!" Matthew screamed after him as the tip of his machine gun followed the B.O.W., sending a spray of bullets throughout the hall.

"Target in sight, men. Fire!" Chris commanded. God, he hated Lickers. From among all the B.O.W.s he had encountered, the skinless, tongue-launching beasts seemed by far the most disgusting of them all. They were fast; so fast not one of their bullets really found their target.  _Shit._ When had he become such a terrible shooter? Maybe Jill was right and he should have spent more time on the shooting gallery and less in the gym. Or maybe O'Brian was right and he should stop fooling everyone and quit. Chris, for the first time in a long time, felt fear and doubt.

Trying to focus himself, he held his breath as he felt something sling around his arm. A second Licker had appeared from behind. Though badly injured, it still seemed to have strength to pull him into it with its' tongue.

"Captain!" Rory noticed his trouble and shot a line of bullets through its tongue, crossing and cutting it. The B.O.W. growled in pain and anger. Chris gave his man a grateful nod and proceeded to execute the Licker with a targeted headshot. Another string of shots followed, the agonizing groan of the first Licker dying confirming the target. As soon as the beast was down, Matthew approached the gap in the wall.

"Shit. Sir," he spoke as he turned around to Chris. "He- I don't think he made it."

Chris clenched his teeth. Having lost many comrades in the past, he knew how Matthew felt. He himself felt the same way. He opened his mouth to say something comforting, inhaled deeply, but didn't find the words.

"He fell in the line of duty. No need to go soft, Matthew," Rory exclaimed, shouldering his weapon and inspecting one of the B.O.W. s on the floor. "Captain, this doesn't look like a typical Licker, does it?"

Matthew grimaced, obviously irritated by Rory's words. Chris glanced shortly at him, giving him an approving nod before joining Rory's observation. The young man shoved up the face shield.

It was true. Those Lickers had a strange spongueous texture, soft, almost creamy. They sucked in a short breath as it suddenly started quickly growing into a bubbling matter, like a bunch of yellowish-rose colored pus. Sensing danger, Chris grabbed Rory's shoulder and pulled the young man back. The two found cover behind an overturned desk before the B.O.W. exploded and the walls were coated with a thick layer of a stinking flesh.

"I think you should start wearing a helmet, Captain, even if it hides your pretty face." Matthew smirked as he approached his comrades and lent them a hand. Chris gave him a thankful pat on the shoulder and let the joke slide.

"We better get prepared for what might be waiting for us in there."

* * *

 

Everything was ready for the President's speech when Leon arrived at the hall. Hunnigan had called him as soon as he landed to give him the details about his job that day. It left him disappointed. What he had been called for was a simple security job, which was, in his eyes, a waste of good human resources like him. An army of bodyguards and security agents had been called in to protect the president already. An event like the one that day needed safety personal, no doubt about that, but there hadn't been a warning, let alone a bioterrorism threat. Why would a D.S.O. agent be needed to do a regular security job?

"Leon, good to see you." An expression of relief spread over President Eriksen's face as he spotted him. It looked like it was the old man himself who wanted him there because of his usual paranoia. Ever since Leon had saved him from being smashed by a twenty-feet-high B.O.W. the previous spring he'd been the President's personal choice when it came to security services. Up to now, though, they had always been related to bioterrorism.

"At your service, Mr. President." Leon gave him a comforting smile. A part of him pitied the old man. Politically, Eriksen was probably the best successor America could have gotten after Benford's unfortunate death. He was intelligent, a good speaker and he had a very deep sense of justice. Unfortunately, he was also a coward. Nobody would ever wish to be chased by zombies, but Eriksen had an irrational fear of being eaten alive, which didn't let him make any public appearance without special security services.

"Kennedy." The President patted Leon's shoulder and turned him slowly away from other employees. He lowered his voice. "Sorry for making you come back earlier from your honeymoon. But I sense something is happening here today."

Leon rolled his eyes and blew out a breath. He'd been back from said honeymoon for almost two months and had seen the President more often than his wife since then. Leon couldn't decide if Eriksen was confused, senile or had just a horrible sense of humor.

"Nevermind, Sir." He nodded affirmingly and had a look through the small gap in the heavy curtains that separated them from the main hall, where the journalists were preparing their equipment, taking notes and checking their makeup, even the men. As far as he could see, everything seemed normal so far, but terrorists didn't usually wear a sign with them to announce their plans, for which it was better safe than sorry.

Eriksen smirked thankfully at him and turned to his secretary, who handed him several papers. Leon kept observing the hall as he put his earpiece in and set his microphone. Checking his phone, he found that Claire had left a voice message for him right before the take off. He skimmed over the attendees again and decided to give his wife the short call he had promised her to let her know he was alright, hoping she'd be more receptive after his heartfelt message. He smiled, looking forward to hearing the redhead's clear voice.

Instead a man answered. "Leon?"

"Chris? Is that you?" He couldn't hold back a hiss of frustration. "Where's Claire?"

"Leon, look." His friend blew out a shaky sigh. "TerraSave has been attacked."

His heart skipped a beat and his knees weakened as the news reached his ear. His intent to breathe failed.

"How is she?" He asked carefully, as if a loud and brusque word could awaken the awful truth. Chris seemed to have the same idea as the line fell silent, only the irregular sound of breathing was heard. "Damnit, Chris, speak to me!" He shouted.

"We haven't found her yet."

Chris' statement sank into his mind and started imaging the worst.  _Haven't found her yet_  could mean she was buried under hundreds of pounds of concrete and rubble, or that his beautiful Claire had been destroyed beyond recognition. Or that she- "We think she's been kidnapped again. Moira Burton has disappeared as well."

He slowly started breathing again. Among all the awful possibilities, it was probably the best one. No matter how bad the news was.  _Kidnapped_  didn't mean  _dead_ ; at least not yet, and regarding the fact that this wasn't the first time Claire was abducted, there was still hope.

His eyes flew again over the hall again. The President could surely give the conference without him. Being away during his honeymoon was one thing, but staying away while his pregnant wife was in serious trouble was too much to expect from him. He needed to get back to New York and find Claire. Eriksen would have to understand. Especially since there wasn't any suspicious subjects present and the whole building was outfitted with security guards.

"Chris," he said. "I'll take the next flight back to New York." He was about to turn to the President as a strange noise caught his attention. The crowd in the hall began to run around desperately as a cloud of dense black smoke spread over the hall. People started to scream as they all tried to find the way to the exit. Leon couldn't waste any more time. "But first I need to take care of something here." He hung up and sprinted back to the President, pushing him away. "To the back exit, quick."

That was easier said than done. The panic among the attendees didn't let them advance as fast as Leon wanted. The security people had shut the doors which caused the crowd to scream for their lives. Of course Eriksen couldn't be kept in there if it hadn't even been confirmed what they had been attacked with. But he needed a secure car to get him and his secretary to the D.S.O. lab where they were prepared for most viral infections. Giving two people preferential treatment was against Leon's principles, but in that case his job was to keep the President safe from any viral attack and there was not much space for principles there. He called Hunnigan, asking for a car for the President and his secretary. It was already waiting for them when they finally reached the outside. Two D.S.O. men jumped out of the front seats.

"Get them into the lab as soon as possible. We don't know what we've inhaled in there," Leon whispered to James Moraine as he watched Eriksen and his secretary get into the backseat of the car. "Try not to shoot them, though. You'd regret it your whole life."

"Aren't you coming?" Eriksen asked, seeing that Leon wasn't getting into the car with them. The agent shook his head. The President was in good hands with Moraine and Black in charge.

"I want to have a look at this first." He cocked his head towards the building.

"Be careful in there, Leon," Eriksen told him. "You have a family now."

As soon as the car drove off, Leon stormed back into the building. He wanted to find out what was going on, save as many lives as possible, but his family was the main reason why he stayed. He hadn't been able to protect Claire from the TerraSave attack and he was anxious to get to New York to search for her, but if the case was in any way related to the attack in Washington, he was the best one to find it out. If what they had breathed was a virus, there wasn't much else he could do now besides giving Chris any information that could help find Claire. Ever the dependable, Hunnigan called. Perfect timing as always.

"The President's on his way to the lab," he said. "Make sure you send us someone who can tell us what that smoke was."

"The team is on its way Leon," Hunnigan said. "But please try to control the situation in there. All the news channels have interrupted their usual schedule to give reports on the attack from the inside of the building."

"Shit," Leon hissed trying to hold back a sarcastic smirk. What had he expected from the bunch of journalists? This was the story of their lives, even if that was cut short by turning into a zombie. "I'll see what I can do." After pouring some water onto a scarf he had found on the floor, he wrapped the cloth around his head, covering his mouth and nose and ran into the main hall, hoping the smoke was nothing more than smoke. The agitation among the crowd had calmed down, but many people were heavily coughing and couldn't stop. Leon intuitively laid his hand on his holster as he stepped through the hall, ready to shoot anything that showed the slightest sign of an infection. Luckily nobody showed such signs. Everything he got to see was cameras, microphones and people talking about how it felt like to be caught inside a convention building outside of Washington and to be facing death.

He grimaced. A part of him wished they'd turn so he could fire his weapon to just make them shut up. But even under fire some of them would keep chasing the story of their lives over their own lives. A bald man in his fifties approached him, his grey shirt showing large sweat stains under his arms.

"You," he said in an offensive tone. "You are Leon Kennedy."

Leon turned to him and grabbed his collar discretely, rough enough to scare the guy to death but not seem threatening to the public eye. He regretted it shortly after. His clothes were greasy and the man smelled like cold cigarette smoke and frying oil.

"And who are you?"

"I'm a freelance journalist." The man smirked offering his business card to Leon. "And an expert in bioterrorism."

"Congratulations," Leon hissed sarcastically. "If you are such a big expert I guess you understand that this here-" He pointed at the other reporters, "means general panic and chaos among the citizens. And chaos is what we don't need right now Mister."

"I know, I know." The man kept grinning amusedly as he waved both his hands in a defending gesture. "I'd really just like to ask you a short question." Leon rolled his eyes and let go of the man's collar. Walking away to follow his original task. "How do you think this attack is related to the one TerraSave has suffered earlier this morning?"

Leon kept walking. He himself wanted to know what connection there was, but he would need to get rid of those noisy reporters to investigate the case. His phone beeped. Hunnigan was calling.

"The team has arrived. They're getting in."

"Alright. Nothing suspicious so far," Leon reported as he walked towards the main entrance. They'd finally know what it was that had been spread inside the building and how much of a threat it posed to the people and himself.

* * *

 

"I don't know, Jill." Chris sighed into the phone. The news about the attack on TerraSave's headquarters had made their way into all American households and it hadn't taken his wife very long to react. He had answered her repeated calls once he'd got into the vehicle. He knew Jill loved Claire like a sister, but the best she could do was staying home and taking care of Summer. "All I know is that it nobody has been infected."

"What about the B.O.W.s the news are talking about?" Jill's voice echoed through the line, calm and decisive, the 'old' Jill, S.T.A.R.S Jill, his Jill. "Didn't you find any?"

"We've run into several Lickers. I thought we'd be fighting infected as well..." He shook his head dejected and lowered his voice. Jill was one of the few people he could trust even if she wasn't in charge of the case, but he didn't want anyone to overhear their conversation. He couldn't say too much on the line either. "But there are more B.O.W.s than missing people in the building. Looks like someone brought them to be used as a tool for the attack."

"So they didn't mean to spread a virus." Jill sucked in a short breath. "Chris, that means Claire was their target from the very beginning."

"Yeah." He already saw the B.S.A.A. building emerging in front of them. "Jill, we're arriving. I'll give you an update as soon as I have one."

"Alright," she said. Her short  _I love you_  afterwards was drowned out by the dial tone of the cut line. She frowned. After the dinner with O'Brian and listening attentively to his plans for Chris's future she had woken up in a good mood, but the day had turned into a nightmare. Claire had been kidnapped again and there was nothing she could do, nothing Chris would let her do. She bent over the backrest of the couch where Summer was sleeping tight and softly combed the girl's red hair from her face. It was insulting how much she looked like Claire. She had her eyes and hair, probably due to the recessive redhead genes Chris had somewhere under the thick coat of muscles. If Jill hadn't known for sure that she was the mother, she wouldn't have believed it. She sighed and looked at the TV screen. She had been watching the news all morning long. Since Chris wasn't giving her much more insight information, she'd have to stick to media. Her eyes opened in shock as she saw the breaking news. There had also been a terror attack in Washington. A beautiful young female correspondent with a red-lipped smile was reporting from the inside of the same convention centre where it had happened. Jill ran to the TV to turn the volume up.

 _...just received the news that the dark smoke has been caused by an accident in the ventilation system and is not a bioterror attack. However, as you can see, the attendees are still kept inside. By now, we don't have any further information. But you'll get the most recent news, as usual, only here on_ World Wide News _._

Jill grimaced. Dark smoke in a hall where the President was about to give a speech was surely a bad sign, but as long as there was no virus involved they could calm down. If it had been an accident, then where was the need in keeping the people locked up in there? The blonde sucked in a breath as she saw a familiar face among the crowd in the hall.

"Leon!"

* * *

 

Everything was a fucking chaos. The special team had found out so far that the attack had only been a smoke bomb in the ventilation system that just made breathing damn much harder. Harmless. To calm down the crows they had told them it had been an accident, causing an even worse tumult, since they still wanted to know who would plan such an attack and didn't let anyone leave. Anyone. It meant that Leon wasn't allowed to get out either. He hadn't stopped clenching his teeth since he'd got the news. Being held in Washington when they needed him in New York was almost killing him. From where he was he would definitely not be able to find Claire. The investigation didn't seem to advance very quickly and they wouldn't even let him help. He blew out an irritated breath. Maybe Hunnigan could tell him something more.

"Leon." She answered his call with a nervous tone. "What can I do for you?"

"You can get me out of here," he hissed. "And get me a ticket back to New York. I've got to find Claire."

"Yes, I've hear about the incident this morning." She sighed. "But Leon, I can't let you out. I'm sorry."

He shook his head in disbelief.

"What? Come on, there's nothing I can do here. Why can't I go?"

"Leon." Hunnigan sighed through the line. "Eriksen thinks you're the one behind this attack."

 


	5. The Out

_He had never seen a body like hers, a pinnacle of feminine beauty and lust; but so strong, trained and deadly. What really fascinated him about Ada wasn't just her physique, though, but the whole mystery that enfolded her. A lustful smirk spread across his face as his fingers wandered over the firm skin of her stomach up to her breast. Before he could catch her nipple between two fingers, she pushed his hand away and got up. His eyes snapped to her face as she turned._

" _Why don't you stay the night?"_

_Ada huffed._

" _Leon, how often do we have to discuss this?" She bent over and caressed his cheek, smirking seductively at his disappointed expression. "We're having fun together. This is everything we both can ask for."_

_He stared deeply into her eyes. The words_ I love you  _lay on the tip of his tongue, ready to pop out again. But the single time he'd said them had probably been too much already. He closed his eyes and laughed miserably at himself._

" _Yeah, sure."_

_Ada collected her clothes from the floor, and promptly started getting dressed, trying to flee the uncomfortable silence that fell between them. She hated these conversations. Leon always brought this up after they had sex. He couldn't be satisfied with empty one-night stands; he wanted more and she couldn't give him that. How often had she thought about putting sedatives in his glass of Scotch he used to drink afterwards, so she could evade those bitter questions? He had no idea how much he hurt her every time he asked her to stay. Because there was nothing in the entire world she would have enjoyed more. He didn't know that he had ripped her heart in two the night he had said he loved her. She had swallowed her answer, and it laid like a heavy stone, a burden she couldn't erase. If Ada Wong was somehow able to love somebody, that somebody was Leon Kennedy. But destiny, if such a thing existed, had made their worlds incompatible. Also, if Leon ever found out the things she'd done in the past, the blonde's feelings would doubtlessly vanish as she did after every one-night stand with him._

" _Don't blame me, darling," she whispered, keeping her watchful attitude. "Blame our jobs."_

_She had just pulled up the straps of her dress, when she felt Leon's tight grip around her shoulders. He turned her to face him and stared deeply into her eyes, penetrating the darkest regions of her soul, that is, if she still had one. He leaned forward until his breath caressed the skin on her neck._

" _Quit," he whispered into her ear, his lips hovering, gently brushed her skin and made her tingle in arousal. He knew where to touch her; how to tease her. And he made her feel so loved and protected, perfect. His arms embraced her desperately, not wanting to ever let her go. It was mindless and lacked any sense, but he needed to try. "Give up your job and stay with me. Forever."_

_Her eyes opened abruptly, shocked at the words coming from his lips. That had to be the most ridiculous offer a man had ever made her. And though it was also the sweetest one, she couldn't hold back her sarcastic laughter._

" _You want_ me  _to quit_ my  _job?" She arched a brow and gasped in amusement. "Why don't you quit yours?" She asked as she challenged him, flooded with both hesitation and desire. What she didn't see was determination to keep her at any cost, but the fear of loss, loneliness. Leon blew out his breath in response. No, that night he wasn't going to choose her over his job. Maybe, he never would . "I see."_

_After that night, he never asked her again and she never believed in her ability to love._

* * *

 

**\- IV -**

**The Out**

"Let me speak to him."

"Leon, I don't think that would make a difference." Hunnigan replied decisively.

"I said I want to fucking speak to him," Leon shouted angrily into the phone. He didn't know how the President had come to the conclusion that he was responsible for the attack on the press hall, but he would definitely defend himself against those ridiculous accusations.

"I am here, Mr. Kennedy." Leon's eyes narrowed as he heard Eriksen's voice in the line. The whole situation reminded him of the time Simmons had blamed him for the infection that destroyed Tall Oaks and Benford's death. However, unlike Simmons back then, Eriksen was showing true concern, even if it was extreme and paranoid. "Please understand, Leon. Your behavior earlier was very suspicious. You were the first one to react after the smoke emerged, as if you had known what was about to happen."

Leon blew out a ridiculing hiss.

"Mr. President-" he tried to reply.

"And while everybody thought we were dealing with a virus, you stayed behind, exposing yourself to the apparent danger. Do you think this is the normal attitude of a man who will become a father soon?"

Hunnigan's nervous breathing told Leon she was still listening, and that their discussion troubled her. She had worked with him long enough to know he wasn't capable of such an attack, but she wasn't in a position to question or even oppose the President of the United States. The poor girl was always between the fronts.

"With all my respect, Sir. It is my job to fight bioterrorists."

"I'm sorry Leon, but I'm trying to protect the country or at least our public image. What kind of leader would I be if I didn't do everything to avoid tragedies? Do I have to remind you that it's not the first time you are the main suspect of a terror attack?"

His jaw dropped. Was Eriksen really bringing up Tall Oaks?

"Sir, this is ridiculous."

"And you're still not cooperating." Eriksen sighed. "Your behavior suggests that you're trying to hide something. What are you hiding, Leon?"

Hiding something? Leon scowled. The man couldn't even imagine how committed he was to his job and how much his words hurt his pride. He was not cooperating? How should he cooperate if his wife and unborn child were in danger? It was useless to keep arguing with the President as he hit the button to end the call without a second thought, sighing deeply. That kind of behavior was disrespectful and would probably gain him a suspension but he'd handle that later. First, he needed to find a way out of the hall and get to New York. He walked staunchly to the team of agents who were inspecting the scene, examining suspects and taking testimonies. A young female officer he had argued with earlier was already giving him an impatient glance and lifted her hands defensively as she saw him coming.

"Agent Kennedy, I-"

"Check me." He spread his arms, giving her a serious look. "I know I am the main suspect here. You should check me first before I get rid of any evidences, don't you think?"

The woman scowled doubtfully at him. She opened her mouth to reply, but the commotion between two agents and a reporter had all but silenced the room.

"This is not mine! Let me go, you stupid assholes." Two agents were holding the struggling man in whose luggage they had found something suspicious. Leon identified the suspect as the journalist who had earlier tried to get answers from him. "Who would I infect with that?"

He pulled out the card the man had given him before.

"Bill Richardson," he read and threw a doubtful gaze towards the journalist, who was still resisting to give up.

"That's Bill Richardson?" the woman in front of him asked incredulously and turned around to watch her colleagues lead the man away. "I wouldn't have recognized him if you hadn't told me. I used to read his articles about bioterrorism when I was younger." She huffed. "But he hasn't written anything distinguished in years. I thought he was chasing a good story."

Leon narrowed his eyes. That theory wasn't even plausible given the circumstances. The hall was full of other journalists; younger, more aggressive, hungry for a story. If he was after a good story, why would he give his competitors the same advantage as himself? However, this wasn't Leon's main concern, for which he just shook his head in feigned disbelief and waited for the agent to react.

"So, are you going to check me now?" He smirked widely as soon as the woman had turned her head back to him.

Her reply was interrupted. This time, by Leon's phone.

"Hunnigan! Looks like they've found someone else to blame," he exclaimed in a teasing tone.

"Get someone to scan you, before they start suspecting it was you who smuggled the sample into that guy's luggage," she advised. "I'm giving orders to let out all unarmed attendees."

"What do I do with my gun?" Leon replied smirking.

"Forget about the gun. Your plane takes off in ninety minutes. Get going." Hunnigan hissed.

Leon couldn't hold back a smile. Hunnigan had saved his ass again.

"I owe you one. Thanks, Hunnigan." He hung up and asked the young agent in front once more to get him through the security check as soon as possible. He scowled a bit as they insisted to keep his weapons, but had no other choice than handing them in. Shortly after, he was on his way to the airport. As he pulled his phone out to reach Chris, he received an incoming call. Leon swallowed hard before he hit the answer button.

"Mr. President."

* * *

 

Personally, he would have chosen the black-haired chick. She was younger and in her prime and would guarantee a positive result for the experiment. But of course, Claire Redfield was on a different level than many other women, even though she was approaching her forties. It was probably the main reason she had been chosen over that Burton girl. Whatever. He wasn't getting paid for making decisions, just to do experiments, and clean up the mess afterwards. He shoved the test tubes away and grabbed his phone. He had sensed something was wrong with the redhead and now that his apprehension had been confirmed he had to give a full report so the appropriate decisions could be made. His eyes snapped from one unconscious hostage to the other as he waited for a response.

"We have a problem," he said in a calm voice. "You might reconsider your decision on which subject you want to have for your experiment." His hand stroked the hair of the redhead on the table. "Redfield is pregnant." The response of his superior caused him to smirk. "Yeah, I thought so. Nevermind, I've prepared them both. We can start as soon as you wish."

He smirked victoriously and started ripping cables and needles off Claire's arms as soon as he had ended the call. Whistling, he unlocked the wheels of the stretcher her body lay on and pushed it slowly towards the exit when he suddenly spotted a familiar figure on one of the security screens.

"Goddamnit."

* * *

 

She knew the facilities like the back of her hand, as she had chosen them herself. So, it didn't take her very long to reach what she had identified as the main operation hall. Ada was sure to find her nameless client in those rooms. Showing a natural attitude, she hadn't even made an attempt to avoid being caught by the security cameras. It wasn't needed. Nobody would foresee that she was already back in New York and she'd catch that creepy guy in the act. She smiled triumphantly as she punched in the access code and the door slid open.

He stared, surprised at her early arrival, as he turned around.

"I'm impressed," he praised. "I didn't expect you back that soon after the chaos you caused in Washington." His approving nod almost flattered her. She raised a brow.

"You never mentioned how you wanted it to be done." She walked into the room and glanced around discretely. The man had set up a small lab with expensive-looking electronic equipment in the main hall. Several cables connected the machine to a body lying on a metal stretcher. At least she intuited it was a body, since a large, white cloth covered it. He still had his face covered by that unnerving hood again. "I like it loud and noisy."

He turned back to the machine. Pushing several buttons, he activated a big screen showing a long list of data Ada wasn't able to identify.

"We're about to begin a very important experiment," he announced in a temperate voice as he turned back to the stretcher. "You better keep quiet now and stay out of my way."

Ada scowled at him.

"I actually came back to see what my next job is," she said.

The moment he tilted his head she saw he was wearing sunglasses under his hood. What a sinister guy.

"Aren't you happy with the job you already did?" He hissed.

The tone in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

"Don't misunderstand, I'm not complaining. But since the payment was more than generous, I thought there was something else you'd want me to do." She arched a brow and regretted it the moment after. Who knew if that eerie figure wouldn't misunderstand her intentions? "Isn't there someone I should kill for you?"

She couldn't see it, but he rolled his eyes. He'd known the spy would come back after the job was done to see what he'd do with the facilities she had found for him. The fact that she didn't ask any questions at the time didn't imply that she didn't want answers eventually.

"Not right now." He glared at her. "But I need you on call for the next week."

With one quick pull, he removed the cover from the body on the stretcher, glaring amusedly at Ada as she saw a dead boar. She remained silent, unimpressed. She had expected something else, but she wasn't going to show her astonishment. So this guy was experimenting with dead animals. A classic choice among the B.O.W. mad scientists.

"You should have told me that before. You're lucky I'm free these days." She turned around and walked towards the exit. "So, I expect your call when that thing lives again."

He watched her disappear through the door knowing perfectly that he'd see her again sooner than he'd like. He typed something into his computer to shut the door electronically, making sure Ada's access code wouldn't open it any longer, and watched her leave the facility through the cameras. Afterwards, he checked all the corners and surfaces for possible bugs and spying devices she could have left in the room. Confident that the room was clear, he opened one of the huge hidden cabinets behind the wall and pulled out the stretcher with Moira Burton on it.

"Let the show begin."

Ada, in the meantime, had made her way back into the building. This time, without catching anyone's attention. She didn't trust this creep and he wasn't fooling her with his lies. No one played Ada Wong - no one.

* * *

 

Leon rushed through the B.S.A.A. hallways, ignoring the friendly greetings and startled looks he received as he stormed through building. He needed to speak to Chris as soon as possible. He remembered how happy he'd been that morning knowing he'd meet his Claire after weeks of separation, and how everything had gone to shit after breakfast.

Chris awaited him in the  _peephole_ , a special hidden surveillance room full of display units and computers keeping eyes on everything and everyone. The small, dark space barely needed any light source other than the large monitors casting a glow. Not even Hunnigan had such state-of-the-art equipment available. Leon found the older Redfield walking around the room nervously while a young man in front was checking the video that TerraSave's security cameras had recorded. Barry Burton sat next to him, with his elbows on the table and his hands folded in front of his face, hiding his frown. Even after retiring from the B.S.A.A., the good man had really bad luck with his family and bioterrorism. Chris blew out a frustrated breath.

"Can't you find anything?" He hissed sharply. His reaction could be considered somewhat rude, but Leon understood him pretty well. Chris was an action man, a soldier who took care of the dirty jobs, who spoke with fists and bullets rather than with words. However, the situation right now required a different, more analytical approach, and Redfield, therefore, proved himself to be more aggravating than useful. And feeling useless was killing him.

"Not yet sir," the young man kept hitting the keyboard in front of him restlessly, not even moving his gaze from the monitor. "Most of the cameras that could have recorded anything were damaged during the explosion or even before. It looks like the Lickers went straight after their goal."

"Do we have any details about their motive?" Leon interrupted them. Chris turned around and welcomed him with a comforting glance.

"Unfortunately not." He tried to muster a smile at his brother-in-law as Leon approached the screens. "But we can affirm by now that they were after Claire and Moira and not just any TerraSave member or the organization itself."

Leon sighed, watching the footage on the screens.

"Well, that's something we can work with." His phone started ringing. An incoming video call from Sherry. He clenched his teeth as he answered. "Sherry, any news?"

"Is that a joke?" The young woman's voice echoed loud through the speaker. " _You_  are the news. Leon, is it true?"

He frowned and looked over to Chris, who had turned his attention back to the screens.

"I don't know what they said, but it probably is, yes."

"Are you out of your mind?" Sherry yelled. "How could you just tell the President you quit your job?"

Chris ripped his eyes away from the screen and stared at Leon in shock.

"You did what?" he whispered.

Leon decided to remain calm and took a deep breath, looking back at Sherry on the display.

"He was being impertinent." His eyes narrowed. "And was barring me from returning to New York when my wife and our child are missing, out there somewhere. I should have done that from the start. Maybe they'd be ok right now if it wasn't for me neglecting them." Leon sighed, guilt welling up in his chest.

Sherry closed her eyes and sighed, she understood how he felt right now but that wasn't going to find Claire and Moira.

"Are you there yet?"

"Yeah, just arrived." Leon nodded.

"Good," she whispered. "I'm on my way. Just have to finish something."

"Sherry, wait," he called out. "I think it would be more helpful if you stayed in Washington and passed along any information that could be useful. I can't do that anymore and we need a set of eyes and ears in that town."

The woman sighed sadly, Leon was right. Even though she desperately wanted to be there to support them, it would be extremely helpful if she could find anything in Washington to help with the search

"Alright. I'll stay." She swallowed and, with a pleading look, added. "But please tell me if you get a lead on something."

"Of course. Thanks Sherry."

Chris saw Leon put his phone away and launched a heated look in his direction.

"Say what you want about me. My family is my priority now."

His outburst caused the older man to frown but Chris understood Leon was feeling like a failure.

"I know," he replied. "What you did was admirable." He gave Leon a brotherly pat on the shoulder. "We're gonna find her."

Leon nodded and looked at Barry, who hadn't moved from his position in front of the monitors. The man suddenly jumped up.

"There! There are Moira and Claire!"

They ran towards the monitor and watched how the two women stormed into the reception hall. Several people were running aimlessly through the room. Claire fired her gun into the direction of the entrance, while Moira ran to the right. Suddenly a Licker appeared on the screen. Claire dodged the B.O.W.'s attack and shot it square in the chest as it hit the floor. If Chris had known his sister was safe, he would have smiled proudly and asked her for shooting lessons. But she wasn't here to give him a hard time and tease him; she was gone and god knows who had her. On the screen, some other TerraSave members started attacking the Licker with physical attacks, or throwing anything they could find at it, while a young woman helped Claire onto her feet.

"Lindsay Adams," Chris whispered and looked alarmed. "That's the woman with the bullet in her head."

Leon clenched his fist as he glanced back at the screen. It was not a good sign that she was the only TerraSave member who had been shot. The hall was suddenly filled with dust and the camera image shook. The video cut to black.

Barry groaned.

"How the fuck did it take us so long to find this?" He yelled and turned to the young man who had been checking the material with him. "Daniel, make sure we get all the tapes from the reception hall and any adjacent rooms." The man nodded and jumped up to sprint into the hallway.

Leon stopped breathing, vision blurring. His hand pulled a chair closer and dropped - unable to hold himself up any longer. Claire had been in the hall where the bomb had blasted. A bomb that had killed all of her coworkers. Chances were high that she was dead as well. A stinging pain invaded his throat and caused him to put his head in his hands, trying to draw a shaking breath. A shattering sound made him look up and shook him from his stupor. Chris had hit a display case, shattering the glass and the silence in the room.

"What the damn hell are you doing?" Barry took Chris' hand and pulled it out of the display case. The glass had cut Chris severely and his hand was bleeding heavily. "Chris, goddamnit. Focus." Burton laid some tissue over his friend's fingers. "Why would they kidnap her if she's dead?" Chris looked down, he didn't know what to say. He just reacted.

Leon knew why someone wouldn't care if Claire was dead or alive. Claire had a very rare and contagious virus in her and if anyone wanted to investigate it they probably didn't really care what condition is was in as long as the viruses were intact. However, he didn't say anything. He just lifted his head in agreement.

"You better go to the infirmary, Chris." Barry said. "We need you in one piece if we have any chance of getting the girls back."

* * *

 

This place felt wrong - unclean. Not because it was disorderly or dirty, just the opposite. It was too neat, too clean. The empty halls looked ominous, the limited lighting leaving heavy shadows and dark corners that made you feel uneasy. Why had he wanted such a huge building if he wasn't going to use it? Ada knew she would find answers if she infiltrated the core of the building. According to the map, she was close to the back entrance where the ramps were located. She couldn't imagine that the creepy guy had carried the heavy animal bodies into the building without a wheelbarrow or cart of some sort. Maybe she'd find evidence nearby as to what exactly he was planning. Carefully, she opened the door and scoped out what type of security system would await her on the other side. No cameras, no motion sensors. Nothing but blank walls. What she found, though, was a flat plastic object on the floor. She bent down to have a closer look at what seemed to be an ID Card.

"Kennedy?" She couldn't hold back a frustrated grimace. "Claire Kennedy?"

That was a surprise. Not even two years had passed since Leon had decided he wanted to end their  _open relationship_  of casual encounters. She had known he was lying when he'd told her it had nothing to do with his red-haired friend. But she hadn't assumed he would marry her so soon. Actually, she hadn't imagined Leon Kennedy would ever marry anyone.

But he had married little Claire Redfield. How hadn't she found out earlier about this? Her sources were definitely failing her. Ada couldn't hold back a smirk as she inspected the TerraSave ID card closer. The shiny, scratch- and markless surface and intense color of the printed letters and picture revealed that the identification couldn't be older than a month, maybe two.

"Congratulations on your recent wedding, Leon," she muttered to herself and shook her head. "But we both know that you're just running from the truth. You can't live the life of a normal, caring husband." A thought dawned on her. How had Claire's ID card got into that warehouse? Was Redfield in there? Ada sucked in a breath, remembering she had overheard a conversation about an attack at TerraSave that same morning. Her lips curved a smile, which widened into a shameless grin, her shrill laughter soon filling the empty halls.  _Mr. Creepy_  had Claire Redfield. Satisfied with her conclusion, she walked towards the exit. He had captured that annoying bitch and would probably turn her into an ugly B.O.W. which would crush Leon's soul and he'd come crawling back to her. She giggled in twisted amusement. The most hilarious thing about the whole issue was that he had tried to hide everything from her, but in the end, she, not the caring husband, had found Claire first. She opened the door and stepped into the night, leaving Claire to mercy of her psychotic captor.

* * *

 

Chris had come back from the infirmary not long after Daniel had brought them the remaining footage. The men had, so far, found the hooded figure that had knocked Moira out and carried her away. But the cameras in the main reception hall had stopped recording after the explosion.

"Shit," Leon hissed frustrated. "We don't know who took them or were they went afterwards. We are back to square one."

"Let's analyze this objectively." Barry gave them a serious gaze as he pulled out two folders. "We know that guy took Moira and Claire. Now, what is it they both have in common?"

Chris rolled his eyes and sighed - frustrated.

"Fine. Let's start with something obvious." He shrugged. "They both work for TerraSave." Barry nodded.

"Claire told me she was going to make Moira her successor as head of her department. They worked together in their latest missions." Barry opened the folders and read through the files. "One rescue operation in China, the supervision of the resources for the camp in Kijuju and several strategic plans for Colombia."

"But they weren't working on those cases all alone, were they?" Leon arched a brow. Barry scowled. Probably not.

"They are both relatives of ex S.T.A.R.S. members. Do you think they could target more people?" Chris looked at Barry and bit the inside of his lower lip.

"Is your family alright, Barry?" Leon asked before turning to Chris. "Do you know something about the whereabouts of Jill's father? Does Rebecca have living relatives?"

"Kathy and Polly are with Natalia in the hospital. One of our best men is with them." Barry nodded. "My family is safe."

Leon took a deep breath.

"Jill's father-" Chris narrowed his eyes but shook his head shortly after. "Is it too naive to think that they could be after people who meet both conditions?" He suggested. "TerraSave members whose relatives were S.T.A.R.S. officers?"

Barry cocked his head in doubt. Leon clenched his teeth. This was getting them nowhere fast.

"There's something else," he whispered as he looked at his friends. "They both survived the last attack on TerraSave and escaped that island after being test subjects."

Their eyes snapped from one to another in concerned glances as silence took control of them.

Chris suddenly jumped up from his seat. He couldn't think about his sister being strapped to a table as they cut her apart. "Enough. I'm going back to TerraSave. I think we have a better chance to find clues there than here."

Leon nodded at him and lifted himself from the chair as well. "I'm in."

"Guys, sit down," Barry yelled and hit the table angrily. "Chris' Alpha team has been there the whole morning and didn't find anything. Now it's time to calm down and think. Daniel and his men are analyzing the material we have found already. I'm sure they're gonna find useful information about the hooded guy." His voice sounded calm, almost relaxed. Chris sat down. Such words could only come from Barry, the man who had patiently worked day after day for six months to find his daughter. Barry had always been his friend and had shouldered a lot of troubles for him, but right now, Chris just wanted to rip something's head off. Suddenly, Barry's phone rang. "Hey Darling, we haven't found anything yet."

Chris leaned back and grunted, looking over to Leon, who stared absentmindedly at his phone.

"Waiting for a message from work?" He asked in a desperate attempt to distract his friend and himself. "You know, whenever you wish, you can have a job here in the B.S.A.A." Leon looked up, a confused expression on his face.

"Huh? Yeah, thanks, but I'm alright." He frowned. "I just got this weird mes-"

"What?!" suddenly Barry jumped up knocking his chair to the floor. "How could that happen, Kathy?" He nervously paced the room. Chris and Leon watched him alarmed. "Okay, I'll be right there."

"What happened?" Chris asked his friend as he hung up the phone. Barry laid his arm against the wall and rested his forehead on the cool surface closing his eyes, unable to face them.

After an agonizing minute dragged on, Barry exhaled deeply turning to them, distraught. "Natalia has disappeared from the hospital." Things had just gone from bad to worse and they weren't any closer to finding answers they needed.


	6. The In

_The music box played Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake as a small plastic swan slid clumsily over the mirror, moved by a magnetic mechanism. Moira had bought her the box as a gift after they had once visited the ballet performance together, and she turned it on every time she sat down to brush her hair._

_She watched her reflection in the mirror. Her features had turned a little sharper over the years, especially due to her high cheekbones. That innocent expression on her face was long gone. She was fifteen years old and her body had grown, by now, into something most people would consider beautiful, even attractive. Her small breasts matched the slender body perfectly and her dark hair and white skin made her look like a she'd come from the pages of a fairytale. The previous year she had grown several inches and was now taller than Polly. Her eyes, though, still had a forlorn look that made everyone see her as the lost young girl, a survivor of Terragrigia, who needed protecting. The princess in distress - hilarious. As if she ever needed that. She smiled at the image as she brushed the locks that fell elegantly over her left shoulder._

" _It's too long, Natalia," she said with a cold look. "We should cut it."_

_She kept brushing her hair from the head to the ends in silence. Once finished, she put the brush away and started braiding it into a tight rope braid, starting at her front. She finally smiled back into the mirror._

" _I like it," she whispered. "It's beautiful."_

" _It's unpractical." Her voice adopted a mocking tone as her brow knitted. "It will be in your way if you ever get chased by a Durga again."_

_She took a slow, deep breath._

" _The monster that looked like Zoidberg from_ Futurama _?"_

_The innocent look into the mirror turned into a sarcastic frown. She rolled her eyes. "Well, I wouldn't really compare my Durga to a cartoon figure." She turned her attention to her hair again, braiding in silence until she reached the ends. With a peaceful smile on her lips, she spun a hair tie around the locks, followed by a red-and-green square hair ribbon that matched the colors of her dress._

" _Are you going to make another Durga?" she asked, concern marring her young face._

_The mirror returned her look as a disappointed smirk spread across her face._

" _Don't worry. Even if I wanted, I can't," she explained. "Durgas require a lot of resources we don't have. Not yet any way." She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and booped her own nose._

_Natalia closed the music box and stood up, ready to go downstairs where her family was awaiting her for the Christmas dinner. After one last look at herself, a strange pressure invaded her chest. She closed her eyes in pain and covered her mouth with her hand as she coughed heavily, almost curling herself. Her hand intuitively reached for the edge of a her dresser and held on tight. Her chest ached terribly and every bit of air she impulsed through her throat seemed to burn her from the inside until it came to stop. As soon as she recovered breath, her look fell onto the deep red stains in her palm. The taste of iron-filled blood shot into her mouth as she stared back at her reflection._

" _Alex, what is happening?"_

* * *

 

**\- V -**

**The In**

Step by step she made her way through the hallways in quiet slippers. Her eyes snapped back to her phone screen every now and then to check the facility map her contact had sent her. Her heart was beating hard against her ribcage as she approached her goal.

"Stop being so nervous," she hissed. "You are my fearless girl. What are you afraid of?"

' _I'm not afraid. I just don't like how he looks at us.'_

She sighed.

"You haven't met many people like him, have you? Such an evil man with a cold gaze that he could freeze you through to your soul."

' _To be honest, I only know you.'_

She couldn't hold back a smile.

"You flatter me." She laughed maliciously as she slowly crept through the hall. "I guess I wasn't able to see it in myself. One of my men, Johann, had that look. He had such immense potential." She bit her lip as she remembered the man and his death. "He was killed because of Fisher."

' _The nice man from TerraSave killed him?'_

Eye-rolling, she inhaled impatiently. How could Natalia call Neil Fisher a  _nice man_?

"No. A B.O.W. did. Whatever, my brother had that look too."

' _Albert?'_

"Yes, Albert." She pulled the sleeve of her cardigan over her hand and covered her mouth with it right before she started coughing up blood. "Shit. I don't think we have much time. I hope Vång wasn't lying when he said everything was ready."

' _Why is it such a big problem that Claire is pregnant? Don't you like children?'_

"No, I don't." She wiped her mouth off on her sleeve and kept walking. "I mean, you are the exception, fearless girl. But what I'm most concerned about are the hormones. I wouldn't particularly kill for mood swings, swollen feet and morning sickness. Also, I don't know how the virus would react to those hormones or how it would affect the transfer. I knew it was a good idea to take both subjects in one attack."

On the next corner, she checked the map on the phone again and chose the left way. The voices in her head stopped.

"Are you still there?" She smirked. "Oh, come on Natalia. Think about it. Would you really like to share a body with Redfield? You don't even like her."

She stopped abruptly.

' _I didn't like_ you  _either, and we're getting along pretty well.'_

That was true, indeed. At first it had concerned her that Natalia wasn't completely disappearing from her body, having to share the tiny space with the consciousness of a teenager, but she had actually grown fond of the girl and her sunny nature. Also, Natalia had given her something she'd never had. She had given her a home, a family. Alex had always wanted to run away from the prison the Burton residence was supposed to be to continue her experiments . But living with the Burtons had turned out to be a very gratifying experience. Nobody forced her to do anything she didn't want, except dishwashing maybe, and she could continue her studies right in the cozy home of the Burton family. So, she had stayed. And Natalia with her.

"I know," she said smiling tenderly. "But Moira will be much more fun."

' _Alex? How many souls do you think can fit into one body?'_

What kind of question was that? She had always thought it was impossible for two consciousnesses to co-exist and was hoping that Natalia would someday vanish so she could take over the body. Also, her first transfer into Natalia had been interrupted by her mutation. This time, she wouldn't let anything disrupt her plan and if her calculations were correct, after the transfer, nothing would be left of Moira Burton. She cleared her throat.

"Five," she lied. "There's plenty of room for all of us. And don't call them souls. We don't have souls. We have consciousnesses."

' _Sorry.'_

She stopped in front of a door. "We're here. Do you remember the plan?"

' _Yes.'_

"Good." Her delicate hands entered the access code into the number pad. "Then be quiet and let  _me_  do the talking."

* * *

 

He had watched her arrive through the cameras and couldn't avoid feeling thrilled. Ever since Natalia Burton had shown up in the asylum to talk to him about her plans, he had found the young lady equally fascinating and scary. Her extended knowledge of virology and her progressive beliefs were uncommon in such young people. Split personality, schizophrenia or a bipolar disorder were the most likely diagnoses but it didn't matter. The experiment the girl had suggested was going to be very interesting and advance his own research. The door slid open and Natalia slipped inside. Her white dress under the brown cardigan looked like a hospital robe, dull and lifeless.

"Natalia, welcome." He smirked at her and took off his sunglasses, boring his cold eyes into the girl. "I'm glad you found the facilities so quickly."

She mirrored his smile.

"The indications were accurate and very easy to read." They nodded at each other. "Is everything ready?"

"It is." With a devious smirk that high-lighted the sinister features of this face, he pulled a lever. One of the walls behind him moved upwards revealing a stairway that reached to a lower floor. "After you."

The girl's eyes started to glow in excitement as she descended the stairs. He limped after her.

"I'm impressed, Vång," the girl exclaimed as she found Moira lying in the capsule, her head inside a helmet-like device that would transfer her consciousness into the young woman's body. She put her hand on the glass and had a closer look at her sleeping friend. "Almost like Snow White trapped under the glass", she mused.

"Shall we proceed?" Vång held a small white plastic tray with a glass syringe on it for her inspection. She looked at the green substance in the tube and smiled. A smile that was too evil, too dark to mar the child's face.

"Yes, of course."

* * *

 

"Barry, calm down," Leon called. "You're gonna kill us all."

Rush hour wasn't the best time to drive as fast as Barry did. With his hands tightly wrapped around the wheel, he steered the vehicle through the city like a man with a death wish.

"Says the one who has, by now, crashed every vehicle he's got on or into," Barry hissed, his knuckles turned snow white.

Leon was about to object when Chris gave him a hand sign to make him even forget about retaliating. The older Redfield knew his friend good enough to know that Barry's attitude was suspicious, even in an emergency like this.

"Barry," it's alright," he said in a calm tone. "We are going to do everything we can to find them."

The car came to stop at a red light. Burton's lip twitched as he let out a desperate sigh.

"There's something else," he said sadly. "Natalia wasn't in the hospital because of simple pneumonia." He lowered his head. "She has a very rare lung infection. If she doesn't get her medication-". He swallowed and shook his head. "She needs medical attention."

Chris couldn't keep his jaw from dropping. He knew that this was an emergency but to realize that it could be fatal just for missing a dose of medication - he understood Barry's frustration now. Claire's condition was concerning, but except some mood swings she wasn't suffering any of the pregnancy's side effects yet. She was as strong and stubborn as always. Natalia, though, was surely weakened from her infection and the meds. The traffic light turned green. Chris shook his head, " _Poor girl."_

"Don't hold back Barry. Drive!"

Leon decided to hold on a little tighter to the driver's seat in front. He started to understand all those people who criticized his own driving style.

* * *

 

Natalia wanted to wave Moira goodbye as the capsule that carried her body disappeared into the darkness of the basement; but Alex held her hand down.

"Next time you're gonna see her in the mirror," she whispered so Vång couldn't hear her. The man stood several feet away from her, cleaning the used equipment.

"We can start whenever you want," Vång said pointing at a table full of instruments and weapons. "Take the one you fancy the most. I don't care about blood stains."

Natalia nodded smirking and had a look at the table. The shining revolver caught her eye immediately, as if it was calling out for her. She slid her fingers over the barrel.

"It's loaded, I assume," she muttered.

"Of course it is." Vång nodded, causing Natalia to smirk. Overcome with a sudden coughing fit, Natalia almost dropped the revolver. As her coughing subsided, she coldly wiped the blood from her mouth after relaxing again. Vång handed her a handkerchief.

"Thank you," the girl groaned, hardly breathing.

The man just nodded. Nothing was left of the bright face the girl had worn the day they'd met. She had already been pale back then, but now her skin was turning a shade of grey and her eyes wore reddish-brown circles under them. Her once voluminous and shiny hair had turned dull and thin. It was about time she made the transfer and he felt even proud he could assist her in her task. The girl looked at him and forced a smile.

She had to admit, Vång had done an amazing job. He had prepared and set up everything in just three months with only some sketches and the promise she would share her expertise with him once everything was done. She was impressed by his seriousness and his professionalism. Not even Stuart or Johann had ever been as effective and loyal as the man she had met almost by accident. Too bad she couldn't trust him any further.

"Can I have some time alone?" She had a look at the gun. "This is not something I do very often."

He smiled at her almost warmly, which was pretty frightening.

"I'll be around. Shall I expect to start the procedure when I come back?" Vång asked as he walked up the stairs again.

"Yes," she replied. "It shouldn't take me too long." As soon as he had his back turned to her, her small hands quickly shoved out the cylinder. It was indeed loaded. What an idiot. She smirked maliciously at the bullet bottoms and pushed the cylinder back into place. "Watch and learn, Natalia," she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around the grip, thumbed down the hammer, and aimed for her target.

The shot hammered loudly through the room and shook even herself right to the bone. Vång collapsed onto the stairs and rolled backwards until his body hit the floor. The bullet had ripped through his neck. His eyes were closed, but the blood spreading from the gaping hole in his throat was terrifying. Natalia had noticed a thin wisp of smoke emerged from the barrel. She had always thought that just happened in movies.

"Is he dead?" she whispered as they took a step forward and bent over the body.

"Pretty much," Alex replied coldly before she walked back to the monitors. She took off her cardigan and put it onto the floor before lying down on top of it. A deep breath followed. "Okay, Natalia. The meditation exercise shouldn't take me more than fifteen minutes," she said. "Once I'm sleeping, you pull the trigger, alright?"

' _Alright.'_

"Good." She smiled tenderly and flicked her fingertip over her nose. "I know you'll do great. I'll see you in six months, my fearless girl."

* * *

 

Barry slammed on the brakes, put the vehicle into park and was flying out of the door and running towards the building quicker than Chris thought possible for a man his age. Chris and Leon followed, running after him through the parking lot. It wasn't easy. Despite his age, Burton was faster than a Hunter and as they reached the hospital reception they didn't see him anywhere.

"Damnit!" Chris leaned against the wall to recover breath. Leon bent over resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"You're getting old, Redfield," he looked up, giving his friend a challenging smirk, at which Chris glanced back angrily.

"Screw you, Kennedy." He turned around to the girl at the reception desk. "Good afternoon. We are looking for Natalia Burton's room."

"Are you family?" The gum-chewing girl with bright pink lips asked, giving Chris a narrow-eyed glance. That is, until she spotted Leon. When the blonde approached the desk, her bored expression turned into the widest smile Chris had ever seen. He could actually see the young woman's pupils dilate at the sight of his brother-in-law. Chris turned to him. If Kennedy had smiled back at her, he would've killed him. Right there in the hospital. But Leon knew better at this point, otherwise Chris would have killed him long ago. Redfield turned back at the receptionist.

"Uhm, no. We are not family, but friends."

"Chris."

"I'm sorry, but if you're not family, you can't see her."

"Chris!"

"Oh, come on!" Chris leaned over the counter and whispered to the girl. "We know she has disappeared. Now let us in or we-" Before he could finish the sentence, he was pulled back by a hand on his collar. Leon had decided to intervene.

"Chris, goddamnit, " the blonde yelled and showed his phone to his friend. "Have a look at this." Two messages appeared on the screen. Each of them showed one incoherent jumble of numbers. Put together, though, they started making sense.

"Coordinates!" Chris frowned at his friend as Leon let go of his collar. "Where do they lead to?"

"I don't know yet." He shook his head. "Chris, this might be a trap, but I think we-"

"Go!" Chris yelled and pushed Leon back towards the parking lot. Their search was lost in utter darkness, no matter how dim, any hint they could follow was a good one.

* * *

 

Her eyes opened, but she was far from awake. The spinning vision made her wish she was unconscious again, which was easier said than done with the stabbing pain in her leg and the sickness crawling up her throat along with what she assumed had once been her breakfast. Claire rolled to her right to throw up the burning acid coming from her stomach. Nothing but bile poured onto the floor. It made her wonder how long it had been since she'd last eaten. With the back of her left hand she wiped her mouth clean, while her right hand travelled under the sheet that covered her, right to her stomach. It was too early for her child's movements to be felt, but the warm touch on her skin helped her calm down. At least, she didn't feel any pain in her abdomen. She slowly glared at the surroundings. The room around her was small and dimly lit by several screens. Four of them displayed the words ' _No connection'_  floating in front of a blue background. The last one though, seemed to be connected to a monitoring machine, showing heart rate and other vital signs. She could barely see anything except the metal surface she lay on. But one thing was clear, wherever she was, she was alone. She shook her head and tried to move her legs when the cables caught her eye. The vitals on the screen were probably hers.

"Shit." She hissed as she tried to pull out the needles of her arm. The sickness was making it hard to remove all the tubes and cables and the task took her over a minute. A minute that felt like an eternity. She put her feet onto the ground and tried to stand. Luckily, she had put on her most comfortable flat shoes that day so walking would be easier. he stumbled towards the only door she found and put her fingers around the knob, getting ready to blow out another curse at her unseen captor. Surprisingly, it turned and opened. Just like that. Her eyes widened. Was she even held captive? She huffed out a laugh. Of course she was. Claire slowly pulled at the door and opened it. Bright lights shone into the room and blinded her, causing her to lift her arm to protect her eyes from the burning impact of the rays. When she could see again, she surveyed a wide room, illuminated by fluorescent light tubes, and equipped with more screens and a dashboard full of buttons. A nearby table was full of test tubes and syringes. Pretty creepy altogether. Thankfully though, nobody was there.

Claire slowly walked into the larger room. Her feet didn't want to respond properly and almost caused her to trip and fall. She held onto the table and blew out a shaky breath. She wasn't sure what they had given her, but she prayed it didn't harm her child.

"I'm definitely never gonna drink again," she whispered and tried to laugh at her own joke as she looked up at the monitors, having to rip her eyes open wide to see anything. Most of the screens displayed images of security cameras in empty rooms. On one of them she saw herself leaning over the dashboard. The one that caught her attention, though, was the screen next to it. Claire pressed several buttons to see if she could zoom in on the monitor and see better. The lifeless body on the floor looked familiar to her.

"Natalia?"

 


	7. The Down

" _Not Moira!" she yelled and tossed the pen away as the fingers on the left hand were already tapping nervously on the notebook. Alex was losing patience._

_Their own body was fading due to a strange infection and they’d soon pass away. It was only a matter of weeks; months, if they were lucky. But Natalia, with her pure soul, didn't want to take anyone's life in order to survive. She was a good girl, after all; all nice words and manners and kind smiles even for strangers. But in this case, she wasn't the only one affected. Death was crawling into her body; the infection was turning her lungs into mousse and that would kill both of them. Soon they'd be dead in a cold grave, forgotten, just like everyone else. No, dying wasn't an option for someone as high-standing as Alex Wesker, a brilliant researcher and the last survivor of the Wesker Project. Her sick old body had vanished, but her mind had survived, remaining in disguise among the living. She had found a solution to death; not really the key to eternal life as she had yearned for, but a valid substitute until she could continue her research. It was everything she had and more than Spencer had ever achieved. If only she could laugh at the pathetic old man. She could switch her consciousness into a new body, over and over until she got tired of living, tired of being brilliant, tired of being Alex Wesker hidden behind another name. She had survived them all. All the Wesker children, even Albert, and Spencer himself. The poor little girl that had seemed to be the weakest of them all was now dancing on their all graves and she wouldn't let death stand in her way ever again. Not as long as there were people like Moira Burton, giving her a new body and another life._

" _What do you want, Natalia?" Alex hissed into the mirror. The pair of eyes she saw staring back at herself looked disgusted and that defiance was something even Alex couldn't control. "If I had time, I would repeat the experiment and choose another candidate. Moira's stats are good, but not as outstanding as yours." She shook her head. "But we've run out of time. We can count ourselves lucky that there are other matches left."_

_Natalia frowned. As it seemed, Moira was indeed the best option as the new host for their consciousnesses, but Moira was her sister, her funny and passionate sister and she was worth more than her own life. However, there was Alex as well. The day she'd heard that voice in her head had changed her completely. She'd been pretty scared at first, up to the point that she'd seriously thought about committing suicide, but Alex had turned out to be a good friend and guide. She was now used to her presence and even enjoyed her company. Alex was smart and wise and showed her a lot of things about life; important and less important things. And though it had taken her some time, Natalia now trusted her completely. Alex' intentions differed from the ones that dead old man she called Spencer had. Alex was a scientist. Scientists were good people._

_So, Natalia felt guilty. Guilty because it was her body that was failing. She was failing and slowly killing Alex. If her friend had chosen a different host from the very beginning, she wouldn't need to go through so much trouble now, and Natalia herself could die in peace. But they needed another host for Alex, and for herself, and Moira was indeed an ideal candidate. But she wasn't the only survivor of Alex' experiment in 2011._

" _What about Claire?"_

* * *

 

**\- VI -**

**The Down**

"So, who sent you those messages?"

Chris drove through the streets towards the location the coordinates showed. Quick, steady, focused. Redfield was a good driver, Leon hated to admit. The blonde leaned sulking in the passenger's seat, somewhere between bored and nail-biting-nervous. He had been trained to take control of anything; to be the man for whatever it took, whenever and wherever and he couldn't stand giving the place behind the steering wheel to others; not even to Claire.

"An anonymous sender," he mumbled looking out of the window in order to distract himself from the nervous twitches in his feet. The indications were leading them to a warehouse in an industrial zone where some years earlier everything had been destroyed by a huge fire. Helluva nice place to hold someone captive. About a mile before arriving to their destination, they decided to park the car and go by foot.

"That zone seems deserted," Leon observed as he got out of the car, watching the zone from a safe distance. Several abandoned warehouses waited hopelessly for a new chance that would never come. The last rays of the setting sun submerged them in a romantic orange-red light. Leon turned back to Chris and frowned. "This looks promising."

"I admit, I'm more used to secluded mansions full of bloodthirsty monsters," Redfield said smirking slightly. Leon huffed out a laugh. Keeping a sense of humor in desperate situations was good. It was something that reminded them they were still alive. Or dead men walking, but still laughing their asses off. Better odds than most people have.

The blonde was about to reply when he spotted a black, shiny car driving around the corner and straight at them. Too fast to be able to stop in time before crashing into Barry's car and grinding their bones to dust. The smell of burnt rubber and smoke spread through the street as the car barreled towards them.

"Leon, run!" Chris pushed Leon into the alley to take cover from the vehicle. The wheels screeched loudly as the car turned and spun 360 degrees, almost like an elegant ballerina. It came to stop facing them and miraculously, didn't even scratch Barry's car. From a safe distance, Leon and Chris aimed their guns at the vehicle, ready for anything. The engine was cut and the door on the driver's side kicked open. Two lifted hands appeared, dragging along a young man wearing a dark jacket and a bratty grin.

"Jake?" Leon jumped out from behind his cover.

"Is this the way you welcome an old friend, pretty boy?" He smirked, his hands still in the air as a manner of protest. "You should revise your manners here in America."

Chris grimaced at the young man's comment.

"Don't get us wrong," Leon said walking towards the car. "It's just that here in America we don't see someone running people over as wishing them a nice day. We were trying not to draw attention to ourselves." He looked around to see if anyone or anything noticed. "Thanks for that."

"How was I supposed to know? I'm just here to help." Jake huffed, challenging Leon. His eyes darted angrily to Chris, who was approaching them slowly.

"To help? With what?!" Leon asked in a serious tone. Chris crossed his arms and stood next to Jake without saying a word. Even three years after their legendary encounter in Asia, none of the men would put their guard down.

"I'm getting your wife and Burton's kid back." Jake glanced sarcastically at Leon as he leaned against his car. "Sherry tracked down your phone and I followed you to this shitty spot as soon as my plane landed. What is this, by the way?" Jake pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the dilapidated warehouse.

Leon scowled and turned to face the warehouse where they had been summoned.

"Hopefully, the place that will give us some answers."

* * *

 

' _Nine-hundred ninety-eight, nine-hundred ninety-nine, one thousand.'_

Natalia slowly opened her eyes. A fifteen-minute wait would be enough for Alex to get in trance. No doubt. She had practiced her meditation exercises many times in the previous days and weeks and had proven she could put herself completely to sleep in little more than ten minutes, leaving Natalia's consciousness the only active one in their shared body. But among all the important things they could have forgotten about, they had forgotten their watch. To make sure she wouldn't start moving too early and distract Alex, she decided to count mentally to a thousand, which would be long enough to make sure her friend was fully asleep.

She shifted her weight onto her arms and hands and slowly pushed her body up. Once on her feet, the girl had a proper look around. The room was spooky, full of machines and tubes and that dead man lying on the floor. She walked over to Vång's body. So much blood, she shivered. How could Alex shoot someone else without even blinking an eye but still have an intense fear of killing herself to the point that it would cause the T-Phobos in her to mutate? She looked down at the revolver in her hand. Once she pulled the trigger, nothing would stop them from being transferred into Moira's body. She swallowed. That was not what she wanted, not what Moira deserved. From the very beginning, the black-haired had always been kind of sisterly to her. She had taken care of her and had tried to protect her from all dangers she faced on that island. She had been a ray of light shining through the darkness, long before Barry had come.

"Barry," she whispered. Barry would be sad if anything happened to Moira and Kathy and Polly would mourn her too. They had welcomed her to the family like a daughter, had given her their name and a home. She loved them like they were her real family and she hoped they loved her as much as she loved them. Her eyes snapped to the gun that lay cold and heavy in her hands. She swallowed. The Burtons wouldn't want her to die either, would they? Wouldn't it be better to have two daughters in one? She licked her lips. Barry had once told her how happy he was she was alive and a part of their family. If they wanted to keep them both, Moira and herself, there was only one way now. She put the barrel to her head and the finger onto the trigger.

"Natalia!" A shattering sound coming from the upper floor startled her. Had that been Claire's voice? Quickly sliding the weapon into the pocket of her cardigan, she looked up. Claire had managed to open the door somehow and was walking slowly down the stairs, holding on tight to the handrail. She didn't seem to be able to focus or balance herself. Actually, she looked more like a victim to her than a hero. Vång had probably drugged her. The redhead almost stumbled on the dead body on the floor but didn't seem to care much at this point. She stopped in front of Natalia and grabbed her shoulders. If it was a comforting touch or just an attempt to keep herself upright, Natalia wasn't sure. "Natalia, are you alright? Have they hurt you?"

Their eyes locked. A shy smile crawled up Natalia's face as she shook her head.

"I'm fine."

Claire smiled in relief and nodded at her before turning around to inspect the corpse.

"Did you do this?" She had a closer look at the wound as she bent over the body, trying hard not to fall over in the process.

Natalia looked alarmed. She couldn't tell Claire the truth, could she? The sweat ran down her neck as she shook her head.

"He was already dead when I found him."

The redhead turned back to her, her eyes narrowed.

"Too bad," she said smiling suddenly. "That's a pretty nice shot." She pointed at the body. "I would offer you a job if it had been you who shot him."

Natalia couldn't hold back a giggle. She had seen Claire's serious take-the-bull-by-the-horns action side when they had first met on that island, but now she was knowing the seriously twisted humor the redhead had developed that had helped her survive and cope with everything she had faced. The irony of the complement was not lost on Natalia and even courted the idea of telling Claire the truth just so she could see her reaction. Too bad that wasn't an option, she had to play her part and play it well to have a chance at salvaging the plan. If there was any chance.

"What are we doing down here?" Natalia asked slyly. "I don't remember anything."

Claire's eyes narrowed. She wasn't really sure how she had gotten to this place either.

"I think we were kidnapped," she mumbled and sucked in a breath as she remembered what happened; the smoke, an explosion, the Lickers, all the dead bodies and Moira's lifeless body hanging over their kidnapper's shoulders. She turned to Natalia. "Where is Moira? Have you seen her?"

Natalia's eyes widened.

"Moira is here?" She asked, pretending to be shocked. She wasn't particularly good at it, but Claire couldn't tell if she was lying even if Moira was standing right next to her.

Claire nodded. "I'm pretty sure they took her, too." She looked around in utter disgust. The place was causing her to shiver.

"I have no idea, Claire, I-" Natalia shook her head. "I don't remember anything. I'm so sorry."

"Hey," Claire walked towards her and pulled her into a hug. "It's alright. I'm going to find her," she whispered and looked at the girl. "But first, I'm going to get  _you_  out of here."

That had been a very kind promise but Claire had no idea how she was going to manage that. With only one functioning leg, her head spinning and that sickness lying in her empty stomach her condition was far from fine. But she needed to keep the girl calm so they could find their way out. Natalia had been involved in enough shit and could handle stressful situations, and Claire knew that. But she was still the grown up, the one who protected others, the savior. And she felt responsible. Also, she had survived worse, hadn't she? Her eyes travelled to the machine in the middle of the room and the table next to it.

"Come with me," she took Natalia's hand and guided her to the table. Several firearms, cold steel and pills were spread over the shiny surface. Whoever had placed them there didn't have good intentions, she assumed. She put her hands onto one of the guns and started holstering every weapon she could. The flashlight would be useful too. Natalia watched her attentively. Deep in her pocket, her hand gripped the revolver. Claire turned back to her. "Alright, follow me and let's go find a way out of here." Natalia smiled and nodded as Claire turned her back on her. At this point, there was no turning back. The only person she could trust was the black haired one and the revolver in her pocket. Making their way out of the room and into the unknown facility, all that was left behind was a cold sterilized room and an equally cold body; neither of which would ever be used again.

* * *

 

It was the strangest and most foreboding warehouse Leon had ever seen. The decaying building had rust stains covering the facade and it looked like the roof would come down at any moment. However, compared to the neighboring buildings, it looked like a palace. It was unusually clean for such a ruin. They had found the door open. Not locked rusted or even closed. Wide open. Which meant that someone had been very confident about not being discovered or that said someone was waiting for them inside.

Leon pointed to the door, arching a brow at Chris, "In?"

His friend checked his machine gun, his ammunition, his communicator, his heartbeat and smiled at him.

"In."

The empty metal walls were so smooth and clean they looked slippery and he could have sworn that not even Lickers would be able to climb them. The panels built labyrinth-like halls that caused the men to argue whether to continue together or to split every time they came across a corner or intersection.

"If we split up, we'd have a better chance of finding them," Jake hissed.

"But if we stay together, we have better chance to kill whatever might be waiting for us in here," Chris explained. "Splitting up is too risky."

Leon rolled his eyes. Ever since they had set foot into the building, Jake was constantly provoking Redfield, challenging him to lose his cool, and maybe his mind too. Chris wasn't taking the bait, and continued ignoring the attacks, taking it all in stride. Leon had always thought Chris was too hotheaded to handle such a situation. He smirked and turned the handle to the next door. Wasn't it weird that none of the doors were closed? What kind of facility was this?

"Risky?" Jake huffed out a laugh. "Come on! Don't tell me that the famous Captain Chris Redfield is afraid of getting the shit beat out of him." He grimaced. "Unbelievable that you are the one who killed my father."

Okay, that hit a nerve. "How dare you, Kid? I-" Chris was interrupted by a deafening sound.

"Guys, you should really have a look at this." Leon's urgency made the men turn around.

The sound of groans and hisses emerged from the next hall and the noise was overwhelming. The two men readied their weapons and walked in after Leon. The walls were composed of cages. Large cages that reached from floor to ceiling. What they found inside them was frightening. Hundreds of animal-based B.O.W.s were stuffed into the cages and the scenery looked somewhat heartbreaking.

"Pigs?" Chris muttered as he had a closer look into one of the cages but jumped back as the creature suddenly barked at him.

Jake grimaced.

"This is disgusting," he said pointing at the stings that had been pierced into the creature's flesh. "Makes me wonder what else we'll be finding in here."

Chris nodded.

"Nothing smaller than these."

Leon observed the cages more closely but as he did, a part of him wished he hadn't. The enclosures were locked electronically, which meant that anyone could open them with just a push of a button and let those deadly things wreak havoc. Two, three, maybe four of them would be easy to handle but any more of them and they would be a real pain in the ass. Running from hungry zombies was one thing. But dogs? Dogs were faster than any other shit that had ever chased him. Probably.

"We might need reinforcements."

Chris nodded. He'd had the same idea and was already contacting headquarters.

"Amanda, Chris Redfield speaking. I've received a hint about a warehouse full of B.O.W.s near the bay and just confirmed it. I'll send you the coordinates. I need Rory Williams and the rest of the Alpha team here ASAP."

Leon glanced into the cages. He didn't work in teams. He had never liked it. And when the whole team he was forced to work with got killed because of a mole, he really started despising it. But this time, he had to admit they needed more people.

"Twenty minutes," Chris said as he hung up. "We can go on when they arrive."

"Yeah sure. Let's just sit down and wait. Anyone has brought some beer and crackers?" Jake jokingly mocked Chris.

Chris glared at him. Unshook and calm, he blew out a laugh.

"What do you suggest, Jake?"

The young man stared him down.

"We go further. By the time the B.S.A.A. arrives, we'll have saved your precious redhead." He glanced challengingly at Chris and muttered. "And you, Captain Redfield, don't have to see your team wiped out again."

Leon's eyes widened slightly at the young man's audacious comment. That had gone a bit too far. He glanced at Chris, who was trying to control his rage. Rage that came out of the deepest darkness of personal failure and self-loathing. He tried to breathe and regain his composure. He had never truly forgiven himself for the mistakes that had pushed his men into their early graves. His hand grabbed for Jake's collar to pull the young man into a face-to-face conversation that was meant to break bones and shut mouths, permanently. ut Jake deftly avoided getting caught by Chris' hand.

Leon separated the two men before things got worse, and he ended up fighting both men instead of the monsters surrounding them.

"What are you even doing here? This is not your fight." Chris continued attacking his opponent.

"It's Sherry's," the young man hissed.

Chris just stared back at him, astonished. He felt his grip loosen. Jake Muller, son of the internationally known terrorist and his own nemesis Albert Wesker was helping them because of Sherry Birkin.

Leon blew out a surprised breath. He'd never really understood what kind of relationship Jake and Sherry had. Romantically involved or not, neither of them would call the other  _boyfriend_  or  _girlfriend_. And even so, there he was, fighting a battle that was obviously meant to be Sherry's. Leon couldn't hold back a smirk and Jake caught it.

"What are you staring at, hero? You in love with me all of a sudden?" He smirked brattily at Leon. "Better stay with the redhead. She's got pretty nice curves for a woman her age. Also, you're really not my type. Pretty boys just don't do it for me."

Leon frowned as Chris arched a brow at him and smirked.

"We should get going."

* * *

 

Since the floor they were on held nothing but the discovered corpse and surgical equipment, Claire and Natalia decided to go back to the room upstairs to look for Moira and a way out. However, they could go no further. If there was an exit, it was blocked, a door, locked, a hallway seeming to lead to dead ends. The only lead they found was one heavy metal door that required a digital access code and the room with the dashboard and screens monitoring the facility. The redhead considered trying to push any button to see what would happen but dismissed the idea. She'd probably just activate an alarm. Or a trap. Or worse. She looked back to the monitors to see if she could find anything useful on them, some clue she was missing and what she saw made her hold her breath.

"Leon...Chris." Her hand reached out and caressed the glass screen. One of the security cameras had switched to another room and was now showing her husband and brother walking shoulder to shoulder through the corridors. Right before the attack, she had been so mad at both of them, she thought she would never want to see them again. Now she only felt the urge to find them, hug them, kiss them, and confirm it wasn't a cruel dream. "Even Jake is here." She smiled warmly, unaware of how a small tear made its way down her cheek.

"Claire!" Natalia's voice made her focus. She wiped the tear away and turned to the girl, who was pointing her finger at one of the screens. "Look, it's Moira!"

Claire stepped closer to the screen Natalia was pointing at. It was indeed Moira. She was lying in some sort of glass coffin and had a strange contraption on her head. The scene looked perfectly peaceful, out of some twisted fairytale but there was absolutely nothing dream-like about it. It was a nightmare.

"Where the fuck is she?" Claire hissed as she tried to get an image from another angle with the only two buttons that were clearly marked as ' _Previous'_ and ' _Next'_.

"Do you think we can find her?" Natalia asked, concerned.

"I'm not sure." She kept switching from one lens to another in a desperate attempt to find anything useful on the screens. A room number, floor level or anything at all. "I don't even know where to start searching. "Each screen looks the same as the last."

Just then, a trembling sound from the floor below made them look up. Natalia took a step back and hid behind Claire, digging her fingers into her arm.

The redhead put a finger to her lips as a sign for the girl to remain silent. After quietly pulling one of her guns out, she slowly approached the stairway, stopped, and listened. Nothing. A dreadful silence engulfed the room again and was more terrifying than any noise that could replace it. She carefully descended one step after another down to the floor where she had found Natalia and the dead man. Oddly, the corpse at the bottom of the stairs had disappeared making the hair rise on the back of Claire's neck. Her eyes swept the room quickly, analyzing every corner, every hiding spot or hidden crevice. No corpse, just a huge hole in the ground. The dead don't get up again unless there's a virus involved. Her shallow breathing barely filled her lungs as she descended the remaining stairs slowly, lifting her weapon, ready to aim at anything that moved, but nothing did. Everything stood still and calm. She kept her guard up, focusing on anything that could suddenly jump out of the darkness and tear her to shreds. As the seconds passed, feeling like hours, nothing moved, attacked or even made a sound. She approached the new opening in the ground and cautiously leaned over it. It was dark and deep and the air that whistled from below sounded like sirens calling her to jump to her doom in the darkness below. Carefully, she backed away from the hole and after one last glance around, she holstered her weapon.

"Natalia? It's clear. You can come down."

As the teenager entered the room, she couldn't hold back an angry hiss as she saw Claire bent over the elevator shaft where Moira was supposed to be held. This was bad. She looked around. Where was Vång? She looked frightened at the redhead, who was shining the flashlight into the opening.

"What-?" She mumbled as she approached the redhead. "Have you opened this?"

Claire shook her head.

"Must have been the noise we heard from before." She was shining the light into every corner of the abyss, grasping to see the bottom or something in the pitch black. "This is pretty deep. Looks like some sort of elevator," she said. "Whatever is being lifted must be down there right now." The redhead swung her flashlight to the side of the hole, catching the glint of steel in the light, "There's a ladder." She handed Natalia a gun. "Take this and shoot everything that might come out. I'm going down." She slipped the flashlight wristlet around her wrist and got to her knees.

Natalia held her breath as she saw Claire slip into the hole and descend the ladder. How could their whole plan fail so miserably? Redfield wasn't even supposed to be awake. Natalia wrapped her trembling fingers tightly around the gun. If she shot herself now, the transfer would start. Alex was still asleep so she wouldn't find out about all this trouble that's happened. But Claire was on her way to discover Moira in her capsule which would be of what they had been plotting to do since the very beginning - the ultimate betrayal. That was, if Claire wasn't already imagining what they had kidnapped them for. And she would mess up what little chance they had of completing their plan. Natalia looked down into the hole, contemplating. She could try to shoot Claire first before killing herself, but she would have to hide her body somewhere. Actually, if she was going that route, she might as well try to hide the entire facility which was a moot point now. Even if she silenced Claire, she'd still have to take care of Chris Redfield and company, who were sniffing around the facility like a pack of dogs.

After all this deliberating, Natalia still couldn't find a solution. Her chances of success were slowly dying just like her body. She couldn't see Claire anymore, the beam of the flashlight was too weak to penetrate on the enveloping darkness The annoying redhead had to be really deep in the shaft by now. What was she supposed to do? She had no choice now but to climb down and kill Claire. Kill Claire and then herself. Wait no, first she'd have to kill Claire, then shut the elevator doors and then she'd shoot herself. Yes, yes that would work. It had to work.

Slowly, she approached the ladder, ready to climb down when an ear-splitting sound resounded through the room. She covered her ears and she looked up in shock. Red alarm lights flickered, bathing everything in a bloody color, making it impossible to see.

_Warning! The self-destruct system has been activated._ _Evacuate the facilities immediately!_

' _That was Vång's voice!'_  Vång's voice echoed through the room and chilled Natalia to the bone. Had he recorded himself as the system's speaker or was he still alive? Turning and spinning, she looked around the room. He couldn't have gotten very far. Either dead or alive, his body had been moved and not very far. Maybe the monitors on the upper floor would show something about his whereabouts. She turned to ascend the stairs when the metallic sound of the ladder behind her made her turn around. Claire smiled widely as she climbed up the ladder with Moira slung over her shoulder as if she didn't weigh more than a feather. Natalia shook her head in disbelief. These Redfields were definitely made of something else. Claire had simply fastened Moira's inert arms in front of her chest and carried her like she was a backpack. How the hell had she done that so fast?

"Done!" The redhead said as she crawled out of the hole with Moira. "Seems like I activated something when I cracked open the capsule she was in." She gave Natalia an apologizing smirk as she got onto her feet again.

_Warning! The self-destruct system has been activated. Evacuate the facilities immediately!_

Claire grimaced.

"Sorry? What kind of shitty self-destruction is that?" she asked scoffing. "It should at least tell us how much time we have left. If we're being blown into pieces in twenty seconds, I'm not even going to bother running." At Natalia's terrified face, she couldn't hold back a short laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm just kidding." She cocked her head towards the upper floor and offered Natalia her hand. "Let's see if any doors have been opened."

Natalia just stared incredulously at her. Here they were, kidnapped in an unknown location, surrounded by blood, death and the smell of gunpowder and with the deafening alarm assaulting their ears counting down until their impending doom; however, Claire was laughing. This was a nightmare, hell's playground, and Claire was smiling like it was Christmas morning around the tree.

Moira had always looked up to Claire; had always wanted to be like Claire. Now Natalia understood why.

 


	8. The Off

_The plan was simple. Nothing extravagant; just movies and dinner with his best friend. Dinner was okay; he could do dinner, but Leon still didn't understand why she wanted to go to the movies._

" _Why do you want to watch_ 28 Weeks Later _if you haven't seen the prequel yet?" He frowned at Claire, who was sitting on his couch with the newspaper on her lap and giving him a sarcastic glance. "Haven't you seen enough zombies in real life?"_

" _It's the only decent thing to watch tonight." She looked at his shameless grin. "I just want to see some bad special effects and forget about real life. I just need to stop thinking for a while."_

_He dropped onto the couch next to her._

" _I wasn't going to think a lot during dinner." He smirked widely at her sad look._

" _Yeah but during dinner you're going to bring up work, you idiot!" She exclaimed. He kept smiling. He always smiled at her. How could he look so fucking good while being such a jerk? "I just want to have one night out and stop thinking about Chris and his dead girlfriend."_

_Leon frowned. So that was what bothered her. It had been two years since Jill Valentine's death and, according to Claire, Chris still had not gotten over it. He knew Claire had been watching after her brother since that tragedy and that she couldn't be happy herself if her brother was still so broken over the death of his partner. Claire was a savior; it's what she did and who she was. But sometimes even saviors needed to be saved. He sighed quietly and laid his arm around his friend to pull her into a hug._

" _How about we rent_ 28 Days Later _and watch it before we go to see the sequel?" He kissed her hair. "I'm sure you'd like to understand the movie, wouldn't you?"_

* * *

 

**\- VII -**

**The Off**

"Self-destruct?" Jake frowned and looked up to speaker announcing their annihilation. "In this shithole?"

"You can't imagine what kind of places those systems are installed in." Leon cocked his head towards the camera in one of the upper corners of the room. "This is the first camera we come across."

"So, someone activated the system right when we were spotted?" Chris asked.

"Maybe. If they have a security system and self-destruct, there might be B.O.W.s much worse than those dogs." Leon's intense gaze hit Chris. "I'm not leaving without Claire."

Chris mirrored his conviction.

"Neither am I," he replied.

"Hey, guys, focus. As far as we know, there's no evidence she’s even here." Suddenly, the sound of distant barking and screeching metal made the men swing their guns towards the door, ready for whatever was barreling their way.

"Shit!" Leon spat out, gritting his teeth. Chris prepared his machine gun as Jake got into position.

"Is it time to ask  _Who let the dogs out?_ " Jake hissed as he aimed for the door "Do you think they can get through?"

"You've seen how many they are. They will just break their bodies against it." As soon as Chris had spoken, the doors flew off the hinges and the blood-thirsty pig-dogs launched themselves at the men, hell-bent.

"Fire!" Chris yelled as his first bullets hit their target square in the chest, dropping the beast dead in its tracks. The pig-dogs came running towards them, their thirst for blood overcoming their fear of death. The men pushed their backs against the wall and shot at every B.O.W. in their sight. The first dead bodies soon became an obstacle for the pig-dogs that followed, but it did little to slow them for long.

"Watch out!" Leon pulled Jake out of the path of a pig-dog that jumped, aiming for his throat. It hit the wall instead and fell onto the floor, Jake smashed his boot onto its head, flesh squishing out underneath his foot.

Several dogs fell under the fire of Chris' machine gun. The impact of Jake's revolver bullets blew some of them backwards. Leon kept shooting them, a pistol in each hand.

"There's too many of them," Leon screamed, seeing that more and more B.O.W.s were pouring into the hallway. For every one they killed, three took its place, ready to tear down the weary soldiers.

"Enough," Jake pushed his hand into a small bag and pulled out a hand grenade.

"What the fuck, kid?" Chris screamed. " Do you want to kill us?"

"Better to be blown up than eaten alive." Jake ripped the pin out with his teeth before throwing the grenade into the room as far as he could. "Down!"

Leon ducked, throwing his arms over his head. Jake rolled to the ground and using a dead pig-dog as cover from the blast. Chris moved into a defensive crouch and started considering using a helmet in battle.

The deafening explosion reverberated through the metal hallways and the painful sound of howls and bodies hitting the walls followed. A mist of blood and smoke filled the space and made it hard to breathe. Leon started coughing as he tried to inhale something too solid to be air.

"You guys alright?" Jake had already sat up and was pointing his gun at the mess the grenade had caused, making sure nothing was moving anymore.

"Not thanks to you!" Chris gave the younger man an annoyed glance. "You could've killed us."

"You already said that." Jake countered. "But I didn't. I saved us, Redfield." He slowly got up.

Leon stood up as well.

"That was risky." He glanced angrily at Jake.

"More risky than being attacked by pig-dogs when the self-destruct system is already running?" Jake shouted at the other men. "Why the hell are we standing around here arguing?"

Chris and Leon locked eyes. The older man hated to admit it, but Jake was right. He swallowed hard. The young mercenary not only reminded him of Wesker, but also of himself when he'd been young and rebellious. Chris grabbed his machine gun and turned to the next door, almost excited about what was awaiting them behind it.

"Alright. Let's get going."

* * *

 

The fear of activating sensors, cameras or even the self-destruction wasn't haunting her anymore. Under the hammering sound of the alarm and the frightening voice announcing their death, it was easy to decide what to do next. The first button she hit was a small, green one. Green was always good; green stood for hope, nature and those weird green herbs that healed you somehow. In their particular case, it activated an interface. A smoky male voice greeted her and asked for a password.

Claire tilted her head back and threw her hands to her face, screaming into her palms. "Shit!"

She turned around and walked towards the door again, hitting it hard with her fist in frustration. How was she going to get Moira and Natalia out of there if she could get past this door? The goddamn door in question had been locked with an electronic device which, oh surprise, had been burnt and melted down. Even if she guessed the access code, it wouldn't open any more. They didn't have any tool that could work as a crowbar to crack the door open with either. So, the only hope was the central computer next to the security camera screens she had found earlier. Maybe the system could show them an alternate route they didn't know. But, naturally, they needed a password. Had she really expected the system to show her the way out after pushing just one button? She clenched her teeth and turned back, watching Natalia standing beside the screens and looking somewhat confused. How frustrating this whole situation was. Her look fell onto Moira, who lay in the floor in a corner. Claire had folded her jacket into a cheap excuse for a pillow and had placed it under her head. At least it would keep it in a comfortable position and avoid neckaches. That is, if they got out of this hell alive. Moira had pulse and was breathing regularly but was still unconscious. Claire sucked in a breath as she saw the young woman turn her head.

"Natalia, she's waking up." She ran towards her friend and dropped down on her knees next to her body. "Moira, can you hear me?"

Natalia bit her lip. They had been in that room for five minutes, trying to figure out how those devices worked. What she couldn't tell Claire was that she knew the password. Vång had told Alex during their last phone call; she had, obviously, listened. She didn't really know if she was doing right. Alex would be pissed when she woke up, but her intuition told Natalia to do anything to save Moira and Claire. The redhead had impressed her with her brave spirit and her protective behavior and seeing how her brother and husband had come to help her, made her reconsider her choice to pull Claire into this experiment. All those people didn't deserve so much trouble. Natalia watched Claire lean over Moira, softly speaking to her and trying to calm her down under the sound of the alarm and the flickering red lights in the room that would surely scare the shit out of the younger woman once she became aware. It was her chance. She swallowed hard and turned quickly to the keyboard.

P-H-O-B-O-S.

The password itself was more a reminder for Alex to keep her deal with Vång than actually a security barrier. Natalia hit the enter key and an access menu appeared on the screen, joined by the soft sound of a bell. Loud enough to make Claire look up and turn to her.

"What was that?"

Natalia turned to her.

"Sorry, I just hit the enter button to see what would happen." Natalia feigned a shy look. "Looks like they didn't think this through. This system doesn't even need a password."

Claire caressed softly over Moira's cheek before getting up and running towards the screens.

"Natalia, you're a genius," she exclaimed as she navigated through the menu with the arrow keys. "This seems like a very simple interface. They must have improvised a lot here." A victorious grin crawled up her face as she found the last option to choose at the end of the main menu.

Natalia looked attentively at the screen and read  _Loudspeaker voice recording_. The audio file playing in loop was  _Self_ 3.mp3_.

"What?" She shook her head. "Does that mean-?"

"There's no self-destruct system." Claire chuckled as she deactivated the audio and a comfortable silence filled the room again. "I guess it was just meant to scare intruders away."

"So this explains why there wasn't a countdown," Natalia observed. Claire smirked at her.

"Even so, we shouldn't put our guard down." She leaned relievedly onto the console. "We still don't know who brought us here and what else is waiting in these halls."

A cough behind them made them turn around. Claire ran towards Moira who had flicked her eyes open and was trying to breath normally.

"Claire-" she tried to speak. The redhead shook her head and made her shut.

"Don't move. You've just woken up." Claire spoke quietly and removed some hair strands from her friend's face. "Don't be afraid. You might feel dizzy. It's because you've been sedated for a while." She blinked at her and Moira nodded.

"Okay."

"Look," Claire said in a calm tone. "We've been kidnapped. Again." Her sarcastic grin caused the younger woman to chuckle. "Natalia is here with us, too." She pointed at the girl next to her. Tears full of doubt shot into Moira's eyes as she saw Natalia with them. "It's okay. She's not hurt." Claire smiled as she caressed softly over Moira's cheek. "And now we're getting out of here, alright? Can you stand?"

Moira nodded, but already her first try to shift her weight onto her elbow failed bitterly. It slipped over the metal floor and made her fall onto her shoulder again.

"Sorry," she gasped.

"Don't worry. We haven't opened the door yet anyway." Claire gave her a wink. "Rest."

She rose and got back to the dashboard. Natalia stayed with Moira, who held her hand tightly as she took it into hers. Natalia felt better immediately. A part of her had feared Moira wouldn't wake up again after the interrupted transfer. The oldest Burton daughter smiled comfortingly at her. She licked over her dry lips and took a deep breath.

"I'm so happy you're okay, Natalia."

Those words made tears shoot into the teenager's eyes. She smiled shyly and nodded.

"I'm glad you're alive, Moira." Her whisper could be barely heard.

"Shit!" Claire cursed and turned around to the other two. "There is no option to unlock the door in this menu." As she looked up, she spotted the grating in the ceiling. "But maybe there's another way out."

* * *

 

"I don't get this," Jake hissed. "A self-destruct system should destroy things, not just shut off after ten minutes like my coffee pot. What gives?"

"I didn't know those things could be deactivated, but in this dump," Chris said. "I expect anything to happen."

They had been walking through so many identical hallways for so long that they wondered if they were making any progress or just walking in circles. In their desperate need to find anything to break up the mundane search, they all sighed in relief as Chris' communicator beeped.

"Redfield," he spoke. "Is Alpha-team close?"

Hopefully, they could find out something about this place from their outside contacts. Leon watched his friend as he spoke to the team. Chris stared down the hall at nothing, focused, calm and as he stood there, he reminded him of Claire. What a funny thing. The Redfield siblings would always watch out for each other even though they knew they could take care of themselves. If Claire hadn't been so fucking worried about him back in 1998, she wouldn't have come to Raccoon City and Leon would have probably never met her. He huffed out a laugh. That's what some people called destiny. No matter if it had been fate or just a man who didn't know how to use a phone and give his little sister a call, Leon was grateful the stars had aligned to bring her to him that day.

"I see. Alright. Secure any entrance you might find." Chris had shut his eyes and clenched his teeth as he spoke. Leon looked up. Any entrance?

"How many are there?" He hissed.

Chris gave him a serious gaze.

"Two." He blew out a shaky breath. "But some of the zombie dogs happened to crawl out of air duct openings." Chris nodded at his friend. "We'd better be careful."

The sound of something hitting the floor came from the room in front of them. Leon put his hand onto the handle and held his gun tightly in his free ready. Jake and Chris readied their weapons too.

"Have another grenade with you?" Chris asked chuckling. "I'd like to know if I'll have to dodge another explosion."

Jake furrowed a brow at him.

"Afraid, Redfield?" He smirked and pulled out another grenade, letting it dance breezily between two fingers as if it was a harmless pencil. However, the sight of the room wiped the smirk off his face. What they found inside was a battlefield, the floor was covered with blood and dead B.O.W.s, lickers mostly. Jake lifted his eyebrows in astonishment. "This time I'm innocent. I haven't thrown anything yet."

The last Licker was leaning over another, ripping the flesh off the dead B.O.W.’s bones. Leon could see the bloody drool dripping from its teeth as it lifted its head to pull at the hard muscle. The smell of death lay densely in the air and the sight was something really disturbing.

"I'm not sure if I've ever seen a B.O.W. eating another one." Leon said. "Fighting, yes. Eating, no."

Chris point his machine gun at the Licker. The creature lifted its head and growled into their direction. Mouth wide open, they saw its tongue had been ripped off.

"Ouch!" Jake groaned as he aimed for its head.

"Don't put your guard down!" Chris yelled as the B.O.W. jumped towards them. He fired a barrage of bullets before rolling to his side, narrowly dodging the impact of the body against the wall. The Licker flipped quickly to the right and ran after Leon, who sprinted through the room while Jake unloaded a clip at the creature. Several bullets hit the creature in the legs and back but didn't seem to slow it down. Chris, still thrown onto the floor, emptied his machine gun clip chasing it. Leon turned, shot the Licker's head once, twice. The third shot caught it when it was already jumping towards him. Leon sprang to the side, barely avoiding the B.O.W.'s sharp claws as they tore through the steel sheeting. His left shoulder took the brunt force as he slammed against the wall.

"Leon!" Chris yelped. But the blond proved to be resistant to pain. He aimed for the Licker's head and shot again until the gun clicked empty. The B.O.W. pulled its claws out and fell onto the ground, roaring in agony, still writhing in a pool of blood. Jake ran towards them and drilled another bullet of his revolver into its head for good measure. It shook, shivered, and finally stopped moving.

"That was close." Jake offered Leon a hand and helped him onto his feet again.

"Thanks. It always is." The blond replied as he rubbed his shoulder. "Looks worse than it is," he said smirking at Chris' concerned glance, removing his jacket to show an angry red bruise spreading over his shoulder. He could still move his arm without trouble, but he'd definitely feel the impact in the morning. Chris nodded and pulled out a first aid spray. Leon and he had become good friends over the years, but the main reason he was hoping for the ex-agent to get out of there in one piece was for his sister's happiness. Leon gave him a thankful nod as Chris applied the spray onto his shoulder. Jake had already moved towards the next door and opened it.

"Guys, you should see this," he exclaimed excitedly. "Looks like we just found our reward for defeating the boss."

Chris and Leon walked after him into the next room and held their breath. It was a tiny chamber with several monitors and a small console. A halogen light bulb flickered on the ceiling and gave an eerie glow to the room. The walls were covered with glass cabinets full of weapons. Shotguns, mostly, but also magnums and grenade launchers. They glared at the arsenal, both relieved at the chance to build up their supplies but frightened as to why this place would hold such a serious collection of firepower.

"I wonder what's waiting for us in there if somebody thought it was necessary to have this arsenal." Leon locked eyes with Chris, who clenched his teeth as he found a folder on a sideboard. His heart skipped a beat as he opened it.

"Claire Redfield," he read as he thumbed through the files. "And Moira Burton. Complete daily schedule, habits, contacts, everything you would need to kidnap them."

Leon grimaced. _’Not everything’_  he thought. The most important detail not present was that Claire wore  _his_ last name now.

"At least now we know they're here."

"I'm so good," Jake praised himself as he stood in front of a keyboard and pointed to the screen he had activated. "I think I found a map of the facility."

The other men had a look at the screen, files forgotten in their hands. The two men knew Claire the best and no amount of data or records could change that. On closer inspection of the map, it seemed that they were on the right route but the possible paths in front of them were varying and confusing. This facility was deceiving from the outside; old, decrepit and abandoned; on the inside, though, it was as complex as the pyramids, built into the ground with multiple levels and even a large basement.

If they continued their search at the same pace they would never find the women or avoid the horrors that this place could still contain. Not to mention if the self-destruction was activated again and, this time, for real.

"Chris," Leon mumbled. "I think it's time we split up."

* * *

 

One thing was clear. It would be difficult to hold the flashlight up while she was crawling through the narrow air duct. Her slim figure barely fit into the passage and she had to draw herself forward on her hands, which was enough by itself.

"You're alright up there, Natalia?" Claire's voice was muffled and echoed off the steel duct work.

"I am," the girl replied as she crawled further into the duct. She felt the pressure in her chest tighten and when the breathing became impossible, she coughed, expulsing more blood and tiny, almost black particles from her lungs.

"Natalia?" Claire grimaced. That didn't sound good. "What was that? What's happening?"

Natalia wiped her mouth off and took the needed breath.

"Everything fine," she yelled. "There's just a lot of dust up here."

Claire smiled regretfully. She would have preferred climbing into the air duct herself, but there was no way they could hoist her up. Also, if slim Natalia could barely move, she would most probably get stuck.

"I'm sure of that but you're doing great and you'll find the opening on the other side of the door."

Moira was coherent but she still couldn't hold herself up, " _How much sedative did they use on her?"_  Claire thought. Her head leaned against the wall and she breathed shallowly. Whatever she had been placed into the glass coffin for, she was meant to remain asleep for a very long time.

The girl in the duct reached the vent in the next room and had a look into the hall. She couldn't see anything but metal walls and crawled a bit further so her foot could kick against the vent opening. After the fifth or sixth kick, the vent gave way and fell to the floor below with a clatter. " _Well if any of those monsters are around, they definitely heard that"_  Natalia thought bitterly.

Maybe it was because the room was empty, but she seemed to be much higher in this hall than in the one before. She would probably break her leg if she tried to jump but she soon discovered there was no need to. She could tell that the access device to open the door had been burnt on this side too.

"Claire," she yelled back into the duct. "I don't see anything to open the door here."

Claire grinded her teeth. Not that she hadn't expected to succeed, but it still felt like a failure anyway.

"Okay, no problem. Well done, Natalia." She sighed and looked at Moira. "Come back down and we'll try to push the door open from this side again."

"I could keep going and look for help," the voice in the air duct suggested.

Claire swallowed. Natalia was a really brave girl, and though she knew it was their best chance, she didn't want to risk her life for it.

"Natalia, don't. Come back!" Memories of Raccoon and Sherry scampering away came back to her. Little Birkin had come back and let her save her back then, maybe Natalia would do the same.

"Your brother can't be very far away. I'm sure I can find him."

Claire closed her eyes in thought. Leon and Chris were somewhere in this facility, maybe Natalia could find them. She ran back to the dashboard and clicked through the different screens until she found one where Jake was shooting a Licker with a shotgun He was doing pretty well. The B.O.W. didn't stand a chance against the mercenary. But where were Leon and Chris? She kept searching the other cameras for her family. She found her brother walking through a long, empty hall and Leon in a room full of lab equipment. They seemed to have split up to cover more ground. Claire bit her lower lip. If she could only send them a message. Suddenly, an idea dawned on her and she sprang into action. Time was a luxury they didn't have.

* * *

 

Natalia wasn't listening to Claire as she had already decided to keep crawling through the air duct until she'd find Redfield, Kennedy or that other guy who had come to rescue them. They would get Moira and Claire out of there pretty soon. She crawled as best as she could but the passage became narrower and higher into a steep incline. She had just pulled herself up and around a corner when she heard a mumbling voice inside her head.

"Alex? Are you there?"

She listened but couldn't hear anything. Alex would wake up soon and would surely request explanations. She took a deep breath and asked again.

"Alex? Can you hear me?"

' _Of course I can hear you, you stupid little kid.'_  The voice inside her cursed and swore. ' _What happened here? Why aren't we being transferred?'_

Natalia felt slightly offended by the cruel words, but she knew Alex had just woken up and hadn't had time to get used to the idea that their plan had failed. At least, she was still too weak to take control over the body, so Natalia kept crawling forward.

"I don't know," she replied. "When I finished counting Vång was gone and so were all the weapons."

' _What? But that's-'_  That was all Natalia could hear before she felt Alex rage inside her. A heavy pressure kept pushing out from her insides into every limb of her body and it felt like it was replacing her own energy with Alex'. She suddenly noticed how her strength left her muscles and her body crashed against the bottom of the air duct. "That son of a bitch!" A loud scream was ripped from her lips as the other consciousness inside of her took over the young, weak body. She breathed; lay there, focusing on the sound of her breathing. She breathed until she finally pushed her body up and resumed crawling. Natalia was trying to control her voice again, but Alex's anger was too strong.

' _Where are we going?'_

"I don't know yet. Just out. I can't stand tiny, narrow spaces like this."

In that moment, the alarm went off again and shook her to the bone. The red lights shone into the duct through a vent. She wasn't far from the next grating. A familiar voice echoed through the room along with the siren.

_Leon, Chris, Jake. It's Claire. I know you are here and I want you to know that I'm alright, and so are Natalia and Moira. Moira and I are trapped in a wide control room. Watch your heads. Oh and, by the way, the self-destruct is a sham. Leon, Chris, Jake. It's Claire. I know you are here and-_

As Claire's voice reached her ears and repeated the message over and over again, Alex grinded Natalia's tiny teeth so hard they could have turned to dust. Her vision, flooded with the red alarm lights now clouded her mind with seething rage.

"Redfield."

* * *

 

"Watch your head," Chris whispered as his eyes snapped to the ceiling and found the air duct. Claire had mentioned she was trapped with Moira Burton, but not with Natalia, which could only mean that Barry's adoptive daughter was the one he had to watch out for. She probably didn't want to say openly that one of them was in the ducts because it would make her an easy target for attacks. That is, if there was any intelligent life left in this place. The metal duct right under the ceiling was narrow, but Natalia Burton was just a teenager. Tall, but very thin, she would be able to crawl through it. Chris smirked. "My clever sister," he said proudly. He had taught her everything she knew about battle, had shown her how to aim for a target and how to use a knife. But Claire's strategic intelligence surpassed her fighting skills and his own.

He pulled out his phone and texted Leon and Jake to make sure they'd understand Claire's hint as well. Then he had a look at the map they had found which he had saved on his phone. On the map, they found three bigger chambers and hoped to find the women in one of them. They had split up to check them as Claire could be in any of them or in none, depending on their luck. His best choice right now was to keep walking until he found the chamber he was supposed to inspect, this time, without losing sight of the air duct.

"Hold on, Claire," he whispered. "I'm coming."

* * *

 

The moment she activated the speakers, she only saw Jake on a screen. He stood still and seemed to listen. As first, he first looked around, then at the ceiling. Apparently, he had understood. He then found the camera, grinned widely, and lifted his thumb. He couldn't know if she was seeing him but it was his only chance to communicate with her. Claire smiled, turned off the loudspeakers and quickly recorded another message.

"Jake, I've seen your sign. Thank you. I'm gonna turn the alarm off so it won't be disturbing you, but I'll be watching you through the cameras. Please take care."

She let the false self-destruct system send her message to her loved ones and turned it off again before heading to Moira. The poor thing was still lying on the ground, unable to move. Claire knelt down beside her and combed her hair out of her face.

"They're coming, Moira," she whispered. "They will find Natalia and she will lead them to us. We'll be out of here before you know it."

Moira forced a weak smile and nodded. Claire's presence made her feel more comfortable. They had survived their battles on that island together; fighting, shoulder to shoulder, like real partners. Even when things were really dire, Claire really knew how to take control of the situation. The comforting smile on the redhead's face made her wonder if she could ever be a proper substitute for Claire at TerraSave. A heavy pumping came from the floor below. They both shook when they heard it; Claire turned around. What had that been? Had someone closed the shaft again? Had the dead man returned? She swallowed. The feeling of uneasiness filled the whole room and made it even hard to breathe. Moira looked at her frightened, pleading her not to go.

"Claire, don't."

"I can't just wait here, Moira." She handed her friend one of the guns she had found earlier. "Here, shoot if you need to." She stood up and answered Moira's nod with an encouraging smile before turning to approach the stairs to the basement. She peered into the hall from the top of the stairs, holding her gun up, searching for something to aim for. Nothing moved. Everything looked so much like before she wasn't really surprised by the feeling of déjà vu. The air whistled as it blew through the space and increased the sensation of emptiness. Darkness was everything that lurked in the corners and silence threatened to swallow every form of life that dared to entire the room. But even so, Claire felt she wasn't alone. She carefully removed her shoes as to dampen her footsteps and continued descending the stairs, holding tightly to the railing, with only her socks to protect her feet from the cold concrete steps. She walked forward slowly until she heard a soft growling and stopped on the fifth or sixth step. She took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling.

She didn't even get the chance to have a closer look at what was coming down. It was huge, maybe fifteen feet tall, and was all red muscle. Long blond hair fell almost elegantly from its head onto its shoulders. She didn't wait to see its face, it didn't give her time to. It fell onto the stairs with a loud roar, its weight too much for the stairs to handle, the entire floor gave way beneath them - or so she thing crashed onto the floor below and remained there, strong spasms running through its body. Claire was still sitting on the remaining top of the stairway, her arms tightly wrapped around the railing. Right in front of her, where seconds before there had been stairs, now a cliff threatened with a deep fall into the nothingness. As she tried to pull herself up, the railing gave in and almost caused her to slip down onto the floor below. Claire managed to hold on to the stairs. As she looked at the broken railing in her hand, she knew she had found the tool that would open the broken door. She got onto her feet and ran to the room above, where Moira was holding the gun with shivering hands.

"Claire," she whispered. "What happened?"

"No time for explanations!" Claire ran towards her, pulling the younger woman onto her feet. "I need you to walk; hold on to me." And she pushed Moira forward towards the door. Behind them, the rumbling sound of concrete and claws came closer and caused them to run faster. As soon as they reached the door, Moira dropped to the floor while Claire, with the help of a knife, stuck the railing into the space between the doors, trying to find the right angle to open them. It was hard; it was unbearable; but the stubbornness the Redfield family was famous for hadn't left her only because she was a Kennedy now. The adrenaline in her veins gave her the strength to slowly push open the door. The slides kept forcing themselves shut, but Claire managed to slip between them and push them wider open, pressing her back against the right and her hands against the left one. Once it was open wide enough, she placed the bar between the two heavy metal doors, hoping it wouldn't break or bend, and rushed towards Moira. The B.O.W had climbed up the wall and was dragging itself over the floor towards them.

"Come on, get up." Claire pulled her friend onto her feet again and pushed her carefully through the door. Moira wriggled into the next room and turned to help Claire through the door as she saw the creature appear behind her friend.

"Claire! Watch out!" Her scream came too late. The B.O.W. launched its tongue and hit the metal bar between the door, the doors slamming shut, separating the two women. Moira jerked forward and hit the door. "Claire! Claire!"

"I'm alright. I can handle this," Claire gasped, pressing her back against the door and not taking her eyes off the B.O.W. "You run, Moira. Run!"

Moira felt her knees weaken. She hit her fists against the door as she slowly slid down the surface and onto the floor.

"Claire," she whispered before exhaustion overcame her and everything went black.

Claire, trapped on the other side of the door, watched her opponent's moves. It was a B.O.W., no doubt. Probably the dead man from before that had disappeared from the floor below. Its strong thighs were covered with dark scales and it had long claws on its feet. It reminded her of some sort of reptile, even a dinosaur. The thought reminded her of the time she and Leon had joked about the names of the different T-virus types. That creature in front of her would have had good chances to be a result of the  _T-Rex_  virus if such a strain existed. The upper half of it looked more human, though. Its red muscles looked engorged, but spongy. A thick, pink, stinky slime covered it, making it difficult to grab, that is, if she wanted to touch that disgusting thing. Luckily, she wasn't planning on doing so. Claire grimaced as the B.O.W. came closer. Liquid dripped from its body onto the floor, leaving huge pools of slime. The long blond mane gave it a ridiculous look, ‘Still not as magnificent as Leon's hair’ she thought. She would have laughed but from her experience, the more hilarious a B.O.W. looked, the more dangerous it was. The one in front was by now so close it had cornered her against the wall. If she waited any longer to make a move, it would be over for her before it started. Her gun flew up and aimed for its head. Three quick shots into its face to distract it and she started running. Left? Right? Its long arms were just waiting for that. She sprinted forward and threw herself onto the floor, sliding elegantly over the surface and between the creature's legs, the saliva-like substance on the floor making it easier to glide. Right under the B.O.W.'s ass she shot again. Two bullets hit the body, one bored itself into its head again. The creature roared in pain as Claire ran to the other side of the room and aimed for its back. A shiny golden core on the backside of its head caught her attention. She emptied the magazine shooting it and the creature curled itself, screaming. It turned and bloody eyes bored into her. Claire swallowed and tried to pull out the other gun she had holstered, but the creature on its huge legs was fast; it reached her before she could manage to fire. She took a step to the left but was hit by one of the huge muscled arms of her opponent. It catapulted her against the wall and she hit the floor right where Moira had been lying before. Her gun hadn't landed far from her and the weapon she had left with Moira before was still there. The pain in her leg had gotten the company of a stinging backache that nearly didn't let her move. Instinctively, her hand reached for her lower back and rubbed it. She noticed the wetness of her shirt and inspected the substance in disgust. It was odorless, transparent and as liquid as water. Maybe it was even water. She clenched her teeth as she watched the beast tremble and turn back to her. Despite the pain, she aimed for the creature's head and shot until the magazine clicked empty and the B.O.W. still stood. She had only one full magazine left and the impact of the bullets didn't seem to injure it. Claire shook her head; nowadays B.O.W.s seemed even more resistant than all those creatures the T and G-virus brought to life.

"Okay, not more resistant than William Birkin" she whispered to herself as she held the B.O.W.'s hungry gaze. "Where's a rocket launcher when I need one?" she gasped as a plan popped onto her mind. Her look fell onto the dashboard. Those machines were pretty big and apparently controlled more than just the security system. What were the chances that the voltage it required was enough to kill a huge B.O.W.? She glanced back at the creature and its wet muscles as it stepped towards her. What were the chances if the B.O.W. was a huge sponge? Never mind, she had to risk it.

Most of the surface was already wet. Unfortunately, so were her clothes. She wouldn't be able to get too close to the source or she'd get roasted too. Her eyes snapped up to the ceiling in a desperate attempt to find a way to reach the other side without being electrocuted. Nothing was there; just some cables hanging down. There was no way she could cut a cable by shooting it, was there? But maybe the B.O.W. itself could do it. Claire licked over her lips nervously as she tried to come up with a plan to make the monster cut the cables. In that moment, a sound was heard from the floor below. The creature turned around, sniffed and stood still as if it had forgotten about her. Claire swallowed. It seemed like its memory retention only included what it had in sight. She tried not to make a noise when she put her hand onto the ground and took one of the empty guns up. She held her breath. Lifted her arm and threw the gun over to the computer dashboard. It hit a screen with a loud clang. The B.O.W. turned around to where the sound had come from and stood still again. Claire barely breathed as she took the other empty gun and threw it after the first one. The pain in her back made her hand slap down and hit the ground.

Luckily the beast's hearing wasn't very developed either. It didn't even turn around; it sniffed the air and ran towards the dashboard to inspect it. It literally ran towards it, planning on crashing into everything that would get in its way. Claire sucked in a breath. If it crashed into the control panel, it would probably fulfill her plan on its own. Even so, she aimed at a power cable hanging from the ceiling and connected to the control panel, hoping she was still a good shot. She fired once, twice and finally the third shot severed the cable, the moment the monster hit the control panel. Tons of voltage shot through the creature as it writhed in pain. Its skin cracked and sizzled as the electricity shock through its body and a scream of agony was ripped from the B.O.W.'s jaws. Claire covered her head and face as the sparks arched across the room. The whole thing lasted only a couple seconds but it seemed like an eternity before the darkness came. Complete darkness.

She looked around. The electrocution had caused a short and everything had gone dark. Only a small fire on the control panel shone some light into the room. The B.O.W. didn't move anymore. It lay still over the devices and was definitely dead. Claire sighed in relief. She had made it. Now all she had to do was to force the door open again. Getting back onto her feet wasn't easy with that pain in her back and her leg, but she managed to stand again. She looked at the mess she had made and smirked. Chris would be so proud of her. She walked towards the door; she had almost reached it when a loud bang and a sharp whistling sound blew through the room. Claire stopped, held her breath and lowered her eyes. What was that sound? She shook when she saw her hands, approaching them to her face without hesitation. She would always recognize that smell.

There was blood on her fingers.

 


	9. The With

_The cold air hit her face as soon as she pulled the heavy wooden door open. It reminded her refreshingly of the world around her, something she had forgotten about ever since Jill had appeared at the resort alone. Alone meant with Summer, but without Chris. Claire shook her head. She looked down at herself and pursed her lips angrily. What a stupid theatre this whole thing was. A place full of people, but the one she wanted to be there the most wasn't. Technically, Chris was the second person she most wanted to be there. What would be a wedding without the groom? She pulled a cigarette out of the handbag as she walked over the snowy meadow towards the bench at the frozen lake. Lost in thought, she didn't see Leon sitting there until she was only a few feet away. He looked good in his dark suit and blue shirt. His hair was perfect. When had his hair ever not been perfect? He stared seriously at the lake. A little too serious._

" _Hello, handsome," she said, taking a seat next to him on the wooden bench. "What are you doing out here? Are you getting cold feet?" She lit the cigarette and inhaled the smoke._

_Leon chuckled and looked at her._

" _Trust me, my feet have never been warmer," he mumbled before he turned back to the water. "I just needed to get away from the crowd. Everybody seems to find something to complain about here. Can't they be just happy for us?"_

_Claire laughed out loud and caressed his cheek._

" _It's difficult to make everyone happy with so many people here," she said. "But I'm with you, Leon. There's nothing you have to worry about. Besides, this is our day and those who have to be the happiest are you and I."_

_He smirked at her and saw the melancholic glance on her face. He caressed softly over her cheek and down her neck._

" _Have you called the B.S.A.A. headquarters yet?" He suggested furrowing a brow. "Maybe he's still working."_

" _Well, he shouldn't be." Her voice adopted an offended tone. "His little sister is getting married, for God's sake. And she's doing this whole fancy wedding thing with all these people because he wanted it."_

" _Come on, Claire," Leon said and laid an arm around her. "You love these 'family reunions.'"_

_She pursed her lips and gave him an angry look._

" _None of these people I consider my family. You, Chris and Jill, Sherry, the Burtons, that's real family." She shook her head. "But not that old lady who just had the luck to be a second cousin of my mother."_

_The blonde laughed full heartedly and tilted his head back._

" _But she's a funny woman who has been entertaining everyone the whole morning long." He gave her one of those disarming looks of his; an intense glance from behind the hair and a handsome smile with just the right amount of white teeth. "Although I could swear she grabbed my ass when she hugged me earlier."_

_Now it was Claire's turn to laugh._

" _And who wouldn't? Your ass is irresistible." She covered her mouth as she giggled happily. He grabbed the cigarette from her hands and took a long drag causing her to lift a brow. "Are you sure you're not nervous, Mr. Kennedy?"_

" _Oh, I'm nervous as shit. This is not something I have been trained for," he said chuckling and looked down. "I just hope I won't make any mistakes."_

" _As long as you don't say someone else's name at the end of the aisle, it will be alright." She pulled him closer and kissed him. "Remember, I'm with you."_

_He nodded. "Alright Claudia."_

_Her eyes widened in feigned offense. "You idiot!" She smacked his shoulder amusedly before letting him cup her chin to kiss her again._

" _And I'm with you." He closed his eyes and brought his forehead to hers. And there they stayed, sitting on that bench, holding on to each other and dreaming of the future they were about to begin. When he opened his eyes, Claire was already looking at him._

" _Want to disappear into my changing room to sin for the last time, Mr. Kennedy?" He chuckled at her naughty smirk and pulled her into a deep kiss, suckling on her lower lip until it was sore. What a tempting offer._

" _Knowing your brother," he gasped as soon as he pulled back, "he'll be here to ruin it before I can even get my hands into your panties."_

_Her panties were exactly where she wanted his hands to be. She bit her lip and rose, pulling him up with her._

" _I think it's worth a try. At least, we could start the ceremony if he suddenly showed up."_

**\- VIII -**

**The with**

1998, Raccoon City; a whole town infested with zombies and worse creatures and a nineteen-year-old girl running right into it; rather driving into it. She had been scared, oh, of course she had been scared, but she had survived. A little later, Rockfort Island. Those who had believed there was nothing more terrifying than Raccoon City would change their mind after seeing that shit. More monsters and people trying to catch her and Chris still lost, always one step behind. Until he showed up and saved her and asked her unpleasant questions about that guy that had contacted him to make him get to save her. Leon had helped her without even being there. Steve Burnside had died, but she had survived. She was alive. 2005, Harvardville; the time an airport terminal had been the target of an outbreak. After that incident, she had been known among her TerraSave colleagues as  _the girl who fights zombies with an umbrella_. They wouldn't have joked about that if she hadn't lived to explain it herself. 2011, Sushestvovanie Island; where several TerraSave people met their deaths; where Moira had nearly gotten killed; where Neil Fisher had betrayed her more than he had betrayed anyone; in the process, he had broken her heart into pieces, but she had survived. She had survived a lot of shit over the years. All those tiny scars on her skin caused by bullets, deep scratches or injections reminded her of those nightmares. She had been marked; mentally, emotionally and physically, but she had survived.

Maybe she had just been lucky, because she wouldn't survive this one.

Her knees had failed right after the bullet had torn through her body. The pain was unbearable and it pulled her to the ground. It took her awhile to understand what was going on. Something in her back burnt like fire. The heat felt like a hot iron skewering her to the floor, heat spreading over her and embracing her, cradling her in some kind of comfort. The blood poured out so quickly; it was more than she thought she had and it just kept coming. Must have ripped an artery, that playful little bitch of a bullet. Claire breathed shallowly, turned to her back and touched her stomach. The baby. Was her baby alright? Out of fear for her baby, she let a tear escape her eyes. This was bad. She knew she needed help or she would soon bleed to death and her child would die with her. Teeth clenching, she tried to get up. Rising her torso, she waited for her feet to respond. Claire looked down at them, heavily gasping. Nothing happened. She stared at her legs and waited for them to move. They didn't; she couldn't make them respond.

"Move!" She screamed at them as the tears ran down her cheeks. "Move and save my child." Her sobs sounded desperate as she laid back again and covered her face with both her hands. Apparently, her spine had gotten damaged too. She would probably never walk again; that is, if she survived. Her head ached and the part of her body she could still feel felt weak due to the blood loss. So much blood around her; blood that should actually be inside of her. She made a desperate sound and shook her head. After filling her lungs with air, she rolled onto her stomach and jerked her arms forward into the dark. Little by little, Claire crawled over the floor towards where she remembered the door was. She would get out of there; she would do it for her child. The child she would have to abort once she was out. Her heart ached as Rebecca’s words echoed through her head.

She pulled her body over the floor; inch by inch, until she didn't get farther. Her head dropped onto the floor; she gasped out a desperate cry. She hadn't even reached the middle of the room and now even her arms were too heavy to be lifted. No matter how often she tried, she couldn't manage to move them. And so, she lay in her own blood and stayed there. She lay on the floor, unable to move forward, expecting the nothingness to overtake her. And she hated it; hated herself for being so weak. Claire managed to turn her head and saw the B.O.W. she had defeated just some minutes before. Wasn't it ironic? She had beaten that huge monster and was now bleeding to death - alone. Another tiny tear rolled down her face and got lost in all the blood on the floor. She tried to breathe slowly, pressing her hand onto the wound, but it was useless. The floor was already full of blood. She put her head to rest and breathed quietly. Claire's mind travelled to Leon and stayed there. She thought of him until darkness claimed her.

* * *

 

Leon was close to the chamber he had chosen to inspect when the lights went out. Luckily, he had kept most of the equipment he had been given as a D.S.O. Agent; not only the weapons were useful in his missions. His hand flew instinctively up to his earpiece and activated the small flashlight on it. Those were the details that made the difference. He smirked and lifted his gun, ready to shoot, when he opened the door to the next room and glimpsed inside. It was bigger and it was difficult to see much but shades from grey to dark black, so he walked further into the hall. His senses sharpened as he looked around, moving closer to the next room, little by little. The hall was empty, nothing of interest he moved on, always listening to the air ducts above him. Claire had told them Natalia Burton was crawling through them and they would eventually find her sooner or later. He listened but heard nothing but a humming wind coming through the duct. There had to be an outside exit close or at least an opening. He wondered what he would find behind the next doors.

He sighed as he saw that he wouldn't find out very easily. The next passage was a sliding door and it was sealed shut and the button wasn't working. He pulled out his combat knife and slammed it into the slit between the two slides. Slowly he pried them open enough to put his hands between them, pushing the door open carefully afterwards. He secured it placing a shorter knife into the slit between the door and the floor.

He turned around and sucked in a breath as he saw something lying on the floor. Something or someone. He stepped closer carefully and dropped onto his knees when he recognized the person on the ground.

"Moira," he called and checked her pulse. "Moira, can you hear me?" He pulled out his phone and called Chris. "Chris, I've found Moira Burton. She's unconscious, but alive. Yeah."

The girl moved her lips without opening her eyes.

"Cla- Claire." She whispered and laid her hand onto the door next to her. "Help Claire."

Leon's heart skipped a beat as he turned to the next door. Did that mean Claire was behind it?

"Chris, I think Claire might be close, too." He stood up and inspected the door in front. "Yeah, Moira just said something about her." He started working on the door to open it the same way he had opened the one before. "I'm going in," Leon shouted and forced the door open. It fell close again right behind him. The room inside was a chaos, a battlefield. The smell of burnt cables and flesh thrust violently into his nose. As he turned to the left, he found a big something leaning on a console next to some screens. It looked like a B.O.W., it smelled like a B.O.W.; it was most probably a B.O.W. and it was most definitely dead.

"This looks bad, Chris. There has been a fight here." He turned around and had a wider look at the surroundings, searching for Claire. His jaw dropped as he saw the body on the floor. Not just any body, no,  _the_  body. That single person he would have never wanted to find the way he found her. "No," he whispered, lowered his phone and started urging forward. "No, no, no, no, no."

Ignoring Chris's voice coming from the speaker, he dropped the device and ran towards the lifeless body, falling onto his knees right next to his wife.

"Claire," he called her, cupping her cheek, searching for her neck and her vital signs as he became aware he was kneeling in a lake of blood. "Claire, speak to me," he whispered as he checked her body for open wounds. She was breathing shallowly, which meant it wasn't too late for him to help her. He couldn't find the wound in the dark and under Claire's blood-soaked clothes, but it was useless anyway. She had already lost so much blood that it didn't take long until his own clothes were completely soaked. "Claire, please." He kept pressing his hand onto her shoulder desperately. "Claire, don't. Come on. Open your eyes, love. Please, open your eyes." And so she did. Weak eyes stared from the pale face into his. She opened her mouth and breathed quietly.

"Leon," she whispered as her right hand found his and held it tight. "Leon, I'm sorry."

There was a knot in his throat that made it hard to breathe, to speak or to think clearly. She was so dead pale, and he could tell there wasn't much life left inside her body. He clenched his teeth and caressed over her cheek. He didn't notice how much he was shivering until he put his fingers onto her face.

"Don't speak, Claire." He swallowed. "I'm gonna get you out of here." Decidedly, he tried to stand up and pull her into his arms. She stopped him, causing him to collapse onto the ground.

"Leon, wait." She paused to breathe. "I'm- I'm not gonna make it." A sad smile crawled up her face as tears shot into her eyes.

"Don't say that. You're a fighter, Claire! You've survived so much." He shook his head in denial as he sat down and pulled her onto his lap. Watching her face, seeing how pale she was, and all the blood around them, he knew she was right, that she was drifting away from him. But he couldn't just give up. He would always fight for her, would always try to save her. Because Claire had been his strength, his wall, ever since he had met her. She had always been there for him even when she couldn't be physically with him, she had always been his backup and the sheer thought of having to fight knowing Claire wouldn't be there to put him back together afterwards broke him. What would be left of him if he lost his strength? "You can make it."

"Please," she shed a tear and sobbed quietly. "Stay with me."

Her grip tightened around his arm. Weakly, but with decision. She wanted him to stay with her; expected him to watch her die. He shivered and ran his bloody hands through his hair, leaving the strands covered in an ugly brownish red. She wanted him to stay with her; she didn't want to die alone. It was the most natural thing for a human to wish for themselves and the most selfish thought she could have. He would have to watch her die and it would be the most painful thing he'd ever done, but he couldn't just leave her there and run away. No matter how much it would hurt, Claire deserved that he stayed. He slowly nodded.

"I will," he said as her stroked her hair. "I'm with you, Claire. I'm with you."

He looked into her eyes. She shone. Even in her last hour, she gave him her light of hope and made him believe everything was as it was supposed to be. Her fingers curled into his jacket as she sobbed.

"I'm so tired."

He forced a tender smile. He wanted to shout, he wanted to scream and punch faces and kill anyone responsible for this, but he held still and smiled comfortingly. He swallowed and kept smiling.

"I'm with you, my love." It was all he managed to say. "You're not alone, I'm with you."

And he would stay with her until she took her last breath.

"Please," she whispered. "Take care of Chris and Jill." She stopped talking, swallowed, and breathed shallowly. "And Sherry. Take care of Sherry."

He grimaced and kissed her forehead.

"I will, I promise."

"And take care of yourself," she said forcing a weak smirk. "Be happy, Leon. Live for me. The show must go on."

There it came. That grip that squeezed his heart and smashed it against the next wall. He felt himself bleed dry along with Claire. He couldn't help but nod slightly. It was impossible for him to be happy without his redhead, his best friend, but he would let her go in peace. She deserved to leave in peace. She seemed to read his mind because she tried to give him a warm look.

"You can make it, Leon. I love you," she spoke before she closed her eyes and smiled.

"I love you too, Claire." He stroked over her hair trying to hold on to her. He stroked tight but her grip loosened. He caressed her cheek but she stopped breathing. He grimaced in pain but her head fell back. He held her close, so close, but she drifted away. Claire died in his arms and he couldn't do anything to avoid it. He just sat there, with her body in his arms. He held her, cupped her chin and kissed her dead lips. The grimace still lingered on his face. Never mind; he'd just leave it there.

"And you'll be with me forever."

* * *

 

Small, quick feet ran along the hallway. She ran so fast that the cardigan and the hospital robe beneath fluttered wildly. She gasped. Her lungs ached. But nothing compared to the horrible feeling of guilt in her chest.

"You killed Claire!" Overwhelmed Natalia had taken control of the body and managed to speak. "How could you? Alex? How could you?" A small tear rolled down her cheek as she sobbed quietly with every step they ran.

"This is all her fault. Her and her brother's. I should have smashed that little rat when I first had the chance to." Alex hissed in the teenager's voice. "Every time a Redfield shows up, one of us has to pay for it. My brother knew exactly why he wanted that B.S.A.A. dog dead."

"But Claire hasn't done anything wrong!" Natalia managed to stop their body and lean against the wall to rest. "She didn't do anything. She just came and tried to help."

The weak body cried and coughed as it slipped onto the floor. Natalia put her head onto her knees and cried. She cried of weariness, of guilt, of homesickness. She wished to go back to Barry and Kathy; back to Moira and Polly; back to Thanksgiving at the Burton residence; back to candles and Christmas carols and cookies in December, back to New Year's Eve when Claire and Chris came around. Just back. Just out of where she was. She inhaled as she felt Alex control her voice again.

"I understand you, fearless girl." She snorted and coughed up some blood. "Killing the first loved one is always hard." She thought a moment. "Not that I had ever really loved someone who wasn't my brother."

Alex slowly pulled the body onto her feet again and walked towards the capsule where Moira had laid before. She shook her head in regret. "What a shame. This all could have ended so well." She poured a colorless liquid onto the cushions, pulled out a set of matches and lit one. The fire reflected in the remaining tears in her eyes as it shone onto her face.

"Nobody shall ever know about this."

And so, she dropped the match and erased it all.

* * *

 

Jake walked through the half open door with care, as it looked as if it could snap close anytime. He shone his flashlight into the hall and put his phone to his ear.

"I'm almost there, Redfield." He lifted a brow. "Can I go in or do you want me to wait for you?"

He couldn't help but chuckle at the snort he got in response.

"You're already there?" Chris hissed incredulously through the phone, with a hint of mistrust in his voice. "Alright. Go in, but try not to get killed. I'm on my way."

Jake heard him hang up.

"As if you cared," he complained before he started walking into the room in front. After the connection to Leon had broken, Chris had called Jake to inform him and meet up with him next to the room Leon was to inspect after finishing their own investigation. It hadn't taken him long to get to the meeting point. It was so dark inside his short flashlight beam could barely reach the opposite wall. Slowly walking forward, he stepped over a metal bar that looked like a torn handrail. He waved the light through the room to see if there were any stairs but there was nothing. Slowly, the light passed over a girl on the floor. Short, black hair, more or less his age. It had to be Moira Burton. They hadn't been introduced at Leon's wedding but he definitely recognized her as one of the attendees; especially because she had been one of the louder ones. The girl opened her eyes and trembled in shock as she saw him, but soon understood the man in front of her was a friend. Jake nodded at her.

"I'm gonna get you out of here." He tried to put one arm under her legs, one under her arms, but she resisted.

"Claire." She breathed. "Leon." Jake frowned, pulled his gun up and looked at the door, then back at Moira, who was slowly trying to get up. "He went inside."

Jake nodded and made his way towards the door. The damn thing looked like it had been cracked open more than once. He turned around to see if the rail thing could be used to open it again. As he held the bar up, his phone rang.

"Redfield, I'm close. Where are you?" He only heard Chris' gasping through the speaker. "Chris?"

"Hunters!" Chris yelled. "I can't talk much. Find them and bring them out."

"Hold on!" Jake shouted into the phone. "We're coming!" But Chris had hung up already. Jake turned back to the door to the next room. He twirled his arm back and got impulse to slam the rail into the door. When he'd found the right spot, he proceeded to lever it open and placed the bar between them. When it bent dangerously he understood that he wasn't the first one who'd had that idea. He huffed out a laugh, hoping it would be stable enough to keep the door open.

Inside, it felt desperately empty, hot and cold at once, a strange wind blowing through the room. Where did that wind come from? He couldn't tell. Then, he saw the flashlight and two shadows. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. Jake clenched his teeth and held his gun up as he slowly approached whatever was there on the floor. When the shadows came into focus, the truth hit him hard.

"Oh shit..." He looked down at Leon, who leaned against the wall, breathing serenely and staring into the darkness. His face was devoid of anything; no emotions, no movement, nothing. A thick emptiness filled the room, creeping into Jake's body and sucking out his energy. The reason lay in Leon's arms. Claire looked beautiful in her soft paleness and seemed to smile peacefully, which was in contrast with the blood covering her, Leon and the floor. She had found peace in the last moments of her life. However, the blond man holding her was going through a hell so dark it would torment him for god knows how long after this night. "Leon," Jake mumbled. What were the right words to say?  _You'll get over it_? Fuck no.  _Stand up and fight. She would want you to fight_? That didn't sound very comforting either. He swallowed as his look dropped to the ground. "I'm sorry."

Leon looked up and shone the flashlight connected to his earpiece into Jake's face. The younger man narrowed his eyes protecting them from the blinding light. Leon frowned. What was happening? How long had he been here? He felt the weight in his arms and looked down. He saw Claire's peaceful face, her body in his arms, and he remembered. He blinked and blinked again. Oh, yeah. She was dead. His wife, his best friend in the whole world, she was dead. He combed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. A part of him wanted to stay there and die next to her, but there were things he had to take care of. Also, he had promised Claire he would live. And then, there was Jake hovering over him, unsure of what to say or do.

"Leon," the young man gave him a serious glance as he knelt down in front of him. "Chris is in trouble."

_Chris._

_Take care of Chris._

He looked at the young man. He had to help Chris. That's what he had promised Claire before she had died. "Alright." He pulled the redhead's body into a tight grip and slowly got onto his feet again. Jake stared at him. Claire's head had fallen back and her right arm dangled carefreely from his hands. Leon looked terrible; blood stains on his clothes, face and hair. Nothing was left of the pretty boy he had been. His face was stone cold, dead as the women he loved. Jake could just stand and watch as Leon started walking forward. "Let's go."

Jake thought of Sherry and how she would take it; and something inside of him broke. He thought of Chris and felt sorry for the older man. Claire Redfield was an important part of everyone's life and the gap she was leaving behind was so huge it would swallow them all. He walked after Leon towards the door, not sure if the blond was able to see anything in the dark room and with his eyes hidden behind all that dirty hair. Leon Kennedy had never been known for being excessively outgoing and cheerful, but the man who stood in front of Jake didn't even seem human anymore. The ex-agent stepped through the door, carefully, as to not damage Claire's lifeless body. She had suffered enough. A shrill cry welcomed them as soon as they reached the next room.

"Claire! Oh my God." Moira stumbled towards Leon and stared down at Claire's face, then at Leon, blinded by the flashlight. The man shook his head hesitantly, causing Moira to clench her teeth and sob quietly as she put her hand onto her mouth. "This can't be happening."

Jake watched the scene and felt miserable.

"Guys," he spoke. "We need to go. Redfield is being chased by Hunters."

Leon threw his stony gaze at him and nodded.

It was time to help Big Redfield and to tell him his sister was dead.

* * *

 

It looked like a van; a normal, unsuspicious, white van. It was probably functional and she assumed it was the vehicle Mr. Creepy used to transport everything into the warehouse. But assumptions would get you killed in her line of work. She had come back to satisfy her curiosity about that guy. Who was he? Where did he come from and, more importantly, where was he going? Ada pulled out a lockpick and started working on the car lock door until it clicked opened. What had taken her almost ten minutes the first time years ago was now done in just twenty seconds. She laughed a little. Wasn't it Jill Valentine they called the  _master of unlocking_?

"I bet housewife-y Jill Valentine isn't unlocking anything lately. As I heard, not even her husband’s belt." She laughed as she opened the back door to the storage and peered into the vehicle. She arched a brow. A stretcher, several different monitoring machines, small glass containers. It was equipped like an ambulance and Ada assumed the guy had brought Claire Redfield in this van into the building. The machines were old and their plastic cases looked like they had once been gray. Now, they had turned into an ugly greenish yellow. The stretcher was rusty and squeaked like a dying animal when she pushed it. Only some blood stains were missing to turn the scenario into a horror movie set. The small cabinets contained test tubes, empty syringes and different disinfectant tools and material.

She stopped ripping open the cabinets in search for valuable samples as she smelled a choking stench. Smoke. She leaned out of the van and noticed that the smokey haze came from the facilities.

"Fire?"

No doubt, the room filled slowly with smoke. Ada reached for her hook shot on her back.

"Maybe it's better to follow this from a safer distance." A short harpy laughter left her lips as she stepped out of the van and prepared her departure.

* * *

 

"Chris must be near." Jake was the first one to speak after they had made their way through the dark hallway in complete silence. Only the short desperate sobs Moira was making every now and then had joined the sound of footsteps on the ground. Leon was carrying Claire's body, Jake held Moira's arm to make sure the young woman, who was still too weak to walk, wouldn't fall. From the other side of the door they could hear distant grunting, knocks and shots.

Leon turned to Moira. "You better stay here." His look dropped to the dead body in his arms. "With Claire."

Moira nodded, her face was somber.

"He's right. You shouldn't be near this." Jake prepared his gun. "Once we're done here, we're coming back for you."

She watched Leon lay the body onto the floor. He caressed over Claire's forehead and leaned down to kiss her lifeless face.

Jake handed Moira his flashlight and nodded at Leon, who had laid his hand on the handle and was about to push the door open. They disappeared behind the door.

Moira sat next to Claire and took her friend's dead hand. A small tear rolled down her cheek.

"God, Claire," she mumbled shivering. "This can't be happening."

She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, hoping that, when she'd open them again, everything was just a nightmare.

* * *

 

Chris rolled to his right to dodge the claw of the Hunter that was attacking him. He had run out of bullets when there had been still ten of them left. Thanks to his yearlong training he had been able to knock out two of them. One had been attacked and killed by another one. Seven were still left and he felt his strength run from his body. Where were Leon and Jake?

The Hunter jumped towards him. In the darkness, Chris could barely see his enemies and as he tried to move another one of the B.O.W.s stabbed its claws into his side, ripping a scream from his throat. He pushed his machine gun against the Hunter's face and kicked it back. But three more were already waiting to kill him. "Shit."

Before their claws and teeth could tear him apart, the sound of a shot filled the room and someone jumped onto the creature in front of him, pulling the creature backwards into the room and throwing it onto the floor.

Chris sat up and watched. Only Jake could be so mindless to attack a Hunter with his bare hands. Luckily, the young man was skilled in close combat. His moves reminded Chris of Albert Wesker, his father. Quick, silent and deadly. Yes, Jake resembled him more than he himself would like to admit. Another shot came from the corner of the room. Leon was firing a shotgun at an approaching Hunter. Three shots right into its face and it fell onto its back, being immediately smashed by the man's weight into the floor. It burst into a puddle of blood and flesh in an agonizing grunt. Chris turned his head as another one of those creatures swung its claws towards him. He kicked at the Hunter's feet and it jumped back. He rolled onto his knees and pulled out his combat knife. As the B.O.W. jumped towards him, he dodged its attack and slammed the blade into its throat. The blood spilled all over his arms and face as he pushed the Hunter backwards onto the floor and cut through its neck. Chris stood up and looked at Jake, who flip-kicked two other Hunters. One avoided the man's boot but the other was smashed against the wall and came down with the sickening crunch of bones. Chris ran towards the second B.O.W. which was already springing towards Jake. He threw himself onto the creature and drove his knife into its neck. Jake took the chance and kicked it into the stomach, which made Chris' blade cut even deeper through flesh and bone. The older man swung the Hunter stuck on the knife through the room and crashed it onto the floor. The B.O.W. curled itself in agonizing pain and stopped moving.

Leon turned around to his friend. More Hunters came falling from a gap in the ceiling.

"Damnit! They are too many." Leon hissed as he watched them come closer. A dull metal sound rattled over the floor and Jake ran towards the other men, throwing Chris onto the floor and screaming at Leon.

"Down!"

Leon turned to the wall and rolled onto his knees right before the grenade exploded. The Hunters were sent flying against the walls and a thick bloody dust filled the air. Jake reached for his gun and aimed at the remaining moving creatures in front. One bullet hit the head of one last standing Hunter. Another one got smashed by Leon, who was already standing again. Jake watched him move. He seemed focused and serious; a natural born fighter.

"Kid, would you mind get off of me? I wouldn't want to send you flying through the room like you just did to those Hunters." Chris shifted beneath him and Jake got onto his feet.

"Yeah, don't mind showing a little gratefulness after I saved your ass for the second time today."

Chris glanced sarcastically at the younger man as he stood up and brushed the dust off his pants. He narrowed his eyes as he watched Leon loading the shotgun.

"You're alright? Have you found the girls? Where are they?"

Leon remained silent as Jake fidgeted a little. Leon turned to his friend.

"We-well," Jake stuttered. "Claire is-"

His words were interrupted by the shattering sound of the door behind them. The men turned and stared into the eyes of a girl.

"Natalia." Chris called. He sucked in a breath as he saw the smoke emerge from behind the young woman. Natalia coughed.

"Fire," she muttered and sank to her knees. Chris ran towards her and held her up as Leon sprinted through the door behind her, followed by Jake. The smoke became thicker as they approached the door to the next room. The heat was intense, smoke filling their noses and burning their eyes. Natalia had left the door open and the flames were already spreading into the hallway. Leon covered his face with his arm as he ran into the room where they had left Moira and Claire's body. He ran through the flames, the tips of his hair curling in the burning heat.

"Moira!" he called. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Jake following him, at some distance. "Moira!"

Behind a wall of flames, he spotted two figures on the floor and sprinted towards them, dodging the fire. Breathing became impossible, but he needed to get them out of there. He rolled to his knees next to Moira. The woman had apparently inhaled too much smoke and was unconscious. He called her name again and touched her face, but she didn't respond. Without further hesitation, he decided to get Burton's girl out of the room and shouldered her featherweight.

"Leon, watch out!" He heard Jake's voice call out as he felt something above him falling. He glanced up to see the ceiling come down on him. A split second later, he was pulled towards the door. Jake had grabbed his arm and had barely got him out of harm's way when a steel panel crashed, angry molten red, anything under it was gone.

Jake kept pushing him towards the door. Leon tried to look behind at the burning wreckage and he would have screamed if the dense smoke hadn't filled his throat. He would have screamed for the body lying right where the ceiling had come down.

"Claire," he gasped. He tried to turn back but Jake kept pushing him.

"We have to get out of here." Jake kept insisting. He pulled and jerked. "Leon, come on."

"What the fuck-?" Chris' voice pulled Leon back from his trance. "Where's Claire?"

Jake coughed. Leon gasped and blinked towards the fire. He felt a sharp pain in his chest and couldn't tell if it was the fire burning his lungs or the guilt for having left his wife's body behind.

"No," he heard Chris yell. "Claire!"

He tried to run into the flames but Jake held him back.

"Redfield, don't! She's dead already." Chris stopped and looked at Jake, shell-shocked.

"No! You're lying!"

Leon shifted and turned to his friend before Chris could grab Jake's collar. As the friends locked eyes, he saw pain and denial written all over Chris' face. There was no time to mourn, they had to get the hell out of there or they'd all die from smoke inhalation. The taste of ashes lingered in his mouth as he tried to swallow. The blond didn't know for how long he had held his breath. He just slowly shook his head, and it was the most difficult thing he had ever done. It crumbled Chris's determination and steely gaze to dust a grimace of anger and pain taking its place.

Jake pointed to the door and kept pulling Leon's arm, while he tried to cover his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Now! Out!"

And Chris turned to the flames again.

"Is she there? I'm gonna get her!" He took a step forward as another panel came off the ceiling. Jake could keep him from being crashed by the burning pieces.

"Don't be a fool. You have to save the living, you have to save yourself!"

Leon clenched his teeth and grabbed Chris' arm. He was fighting the urge run back as well. He wanted to stay with Claire and burn down to nothing. But Jake was right, they could still save Moira and Natalia. And he had promised Claire he would take care of her brother. His headache was killing him. He tried to speak as noisy footsteps approached them from behind like thunder.

"Captain!" A young man in a B.S.A.A. uniform appeared next to them. "What are you doing here? You need to get out."

Chris jerked and turned around violently. His fist hit one of the men in the face as three others held onto his huge arms.

"Captain, damnit!"

Chris coughed. He cried and screamed.

"Claire! No! Claire!" He pulled his right arm free and tried to run into the flames. "She's my sister!" He cried. "My sister!"

Four of his men were finally able to calm him down and pull him back.

Leon felt a weight lift from his shoulders and turned around. Someone had taken Moira and was carrying her away through the flames as another soldier pushed him towards the door. He saw how Chris was being forced towards the exit by his men. They would make sure he got out as soon as possible. Leon smirked. Chris was going to be alright, he had kept his promise.

He had to close his eyes, "Claire…" and the darkness took him.

* * *

 

Jill arrived right after the firefighters. The whole building was on fire and the flames were illuminating the night sky an angry red-orange. She jumped out of the car and ran towards Barry Burton, who was waiting next to the B.S.A.A. truck and the ambulance.

"Barry," she gasped as she arrived. "What happened?"

Barry looked exhausted. Poor Barry. When had he ever not been worried about his children? He turned to her.

"Williams just told me they found three men and two women." He rubbed his beard, tension and worry in his face.

"Two women?" Jill asked furrowing her brow. "In HQ, they told me Natalia was missing too."

Barry didn't answer. He just stood there in silence, watching the lights of the ambulance and the fire. Jill swallowed, closed her eyes and laid her hand on her old friend's shoulder. Barry was a good man, and he had gone through too many struggles in his life.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw the B.S.A.A. soldiers step through the flames.

"They're out!" She ran towards the building and crashed into a police officer.

"Ma'am please stand back. It's dangerous here."

"That's my family in there!" she yelled as she kept pushing forward. The officer grabbed her arms and jerked her back.

"I said stand back!"

His voice bothered her as she grimaced and looked back to the building. A hint of relief invaded her as she saw Chris emerge from the flames on the shoulders of two soldiers.

"Chris!"

He didn't hear her. He was unconscious and was carried away by the men.

"Two doses, man!" She heard a soldier speak. "Two doses were necessary to calm him. He punched Adams in the face."

That stole her breath. They had needed to sedate Chris? Why?

She saw Barry run towards the men who were carrying Moira and Natalia out of the building. Another two were lifting an unconscious Leon onto a stretcher. The last known face coming out of the building was Jake Muller.

Their eyes locked and he walked towards her, a feeling of dread washed over her. She finally pushed past the officer and almost crashed into the young man. He looked awful; with his face covered in a thick, black layer of soot his teeth looked whiter than usual behind the black face as he clenched them tightly. He looked down, and shook his head, closing his eyes.

"Claire-" His statement startled her; she could only stare at him. "Claire didn't- "

A young man from the medical team pulled him away from her. Jake turned around and their eyes met one last time for what felt like forever before he was led to the ambulance and away from her.

"All out!" She heard someone scream. Jill squeezed her eyes shut and felt a tear run down her cheek. The heat of the flames was burning her face, consuming everything. Three men, two women. The only one missing was her redheaded friend with a bright smile; now her smile wasn’t there anymore.

Claire wasn't there anymore.

Claire was gone and more than just the warehouse stood in flames.

 


	10. The Nowhere

_Piers walked through the hallway in a hurry. The director had set a meeting to discuss their tactics for the extremely concerning situation in Eastern Europe, and it would probably end in the decision to send all the North American B.S.A.A. forces, from Alpha to Echo, to secure the zone if the use of B.O.W.s in the Edonian civil war was confirmed. Piers had looked for Captain Redfield in his office, several meeting rooms and the cafeteria, but he couldn't find his supervisor anywhere in the B.S.A.A. facilities. Neither did Chris respond to his phone calls, which meant he was probably still in the building. But where? If he wouldn't find him in the gym he'd have to use the speaker system to call him._

_As he walked down the hall to the gym, the screaming growls of a crowd reached his ears. They were clearly rooting for someone. Were the rookies fighting against each other again? Piers accelerated his pace as his annoyance increased. He would not permit such a childish behavior among B.S.A.A. soldiers. His jaw dropped as watched about twenty soldiers standing around the combat cage one of the advisors had installed to train the men's reflexes in the use of different types or martial arts. Not that he knew much about martial arts. Like most of the soldiers there, he was a shooter, had excellent stamina, and was a pretty good boxer. His left hook had put many enemies down. But director Johnson believed that knowledge of other fighting techniques could give important advantages in combat. Jill Valentine, who had been pointing out the men's lack of flexibility and agile moves more than once, had agreed with him, so it didn't surprise Piers to find her in that cage in a tight, blue sports bra and black yoga pants, moving smoothly around like a cat on the prowl. Her opponent, though, was unexpected._

" _Captain?"_

_Chris Redfield usually agreed with his girlfriend about the use of new methods and tactics that could improve their odds of survival, but Piers knew he had been hesitant about the training. However, Chris seemed to be enjoying this little fight with Jill._

" _The only way she can win this is by letting her boobs pop out," some rookie told another one right as Piers walked up behind them._

" _I'd like to see that!" The other replied. "I've never known a chick with such hot curves." Slowly, Piers put his hands on their shoulders and gave them a look that could kill._

" _You better show more respect. That woman is one of the founding members and she would kick the shit out of you if she heard you speak like that. That is, if I don't take care of you beforehand."_

_The two men put their heads down, looking embarrassed._

" _Yes, Lieutenant Nivans."_

_Piers grimaced. He would have to tell Captain Redfield to show the men more discipline instead of giving them little shows like this. In the cage, Chris and Jill were already jumping onto one another, kicking, hitting, punching and dodging each other's moves. Chris was strong and had a height and weight advantage. It would probably be nothing to him to throw Jill onto the mat, that is, if he could catch her. Valentine was fast and very flexible and she used every possible surface as a jumping board to attack Chris._

_The truth was, if Jill Valentine moved in bed like she did in the cage, the Captain was a lucky bastard. Piers shook his head to get the idea out of his mind._

" _Focus Nivans," he muttered as he watched Jill jump against the cage and catapult herself against Chris. If he hadn't seen her coming or if he had underestimated her power wasn't easy to tell from where Piers stood, but the fact was that she had caught him and was literally choking him into submission._

" _A rear naked choke!" Someone from among the crowd yelped and the room went silent as they watched Jill Valentine choke Chris Redfield to the point of unconsciousness._

_And he wouldn't give up._

" _You stubborn idiot," Jill laughed. "Tap out!"_

_His forced_ "No"  _came out in a silent cough before his head fell onto the mat and the crowd held their breath. Jill let go startled and jumped onto her feet, calling his name until he opened his eyes again. The crowd went crazy. The men laughed and growled, applauding the amazing moves of Jill Valentine._

" _Oh my God, Captain," one of the guys from Alpha team roared. "You're lucky B.O.W.s don't do martial arts."_

_Chris rolled onto his back and watched Jill above him, smiling shamelessly._

" _Well, not yet! But we have to be prepared for anything." He yelled as the blonde stretched her arm and offered him her hand to pull him up onto his feet. "But B.O.W.s aren't usually that beautiful either," he whispered as soon as he stood._

_Jill rolled her eyes and checked that nobody had heard him. "You alright?" she whispered._

" _I couldn't be better," he replied. "Well done, baby. You literally took my breath away." He laughed._

_Piers watched them on the mat and couldn't help thinking of Claire. They had ended their secret relationship just two days ago because of his career in the B.S.A.A. and how closely he worked with her brother. But seeing how Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine handled their professional and private life, he thought that the Captain might understand his situation._

_Whatever, right now, they had to wait what would happen in Europe and if they'd be sent to Edonia._

_He'd talk to Claire as soon as the conflict was over._

* * *

 

**\- IX-**

**The Nowhere**

Rory Williams followed Jill Valentine-Redfield through the hospital halls like a puppy. In the three years he had been with the B.S.A.A., he hadn't had the pleasure to work with her very often. Especially since she had announced her pregnancy, followed by a maternity leave and her eventual retirement from active duty, Jill had only showed up at headquarters to visit her husband or to attend important meetings with the directors. But the times he had been training with Valentine's Intelligence Unit, Jill had proven to be one hell of a leader. Now that Chris was down, and no one knew when he'd be fit for combat again, Jill was taking over the tactical leadership of the Alpha Team. Nobody had asked her to, but no one would ever dare discuss if she was qualified for the task or who was taking care of her little daughter while she was at the B.S.A.A.

Rory was in charge of the active operative part of Alpha Team's leadership. That had been Valentine's wish. As a response to his question why she had chosen him, she had explained that he reminded her of someone.

"Piers Nivans?" he had asked. Ever since he had joined Alpha Team, he had been repeatedly told how much he resembled Chris' late second-in-command. Being compared to the brave lieutenant who had given his life so selflessly in China was both an honor and a curse, since his own skills weren't being recognized as if they were his own, it was Nivans legacy that haunted him.

"Chris Redfield." Jill had smirked at him and Rory had smiled, almost shyly.

Together they had coordinated the search for remaining B.O.W.s and samples once the fire had been extinguished. As long as there was a biological threat, the B.S.A.A. and the D.S.O. were the only authorized units to take care of the zone and Jill had instructed the team to search for the remains of Claire Redfield before the police would get involved. It was almost dawn when Rory and Jill got back to the hospital after receiving the news that Chris Redfield was awake and stable. Rory was on the phone with one of his men.

"I see," he murmured. "Yes, I get that. I'll see if we can get you more containers." He looked at Jill as he covered the speaker. "They are removing B.O.W.s at such a quick pace that we'll soon run out of space in our waste disposal containers and the ones requested from TerraSave have still not arrived."

The B.S.A.A. had biohazard containers for the transport of biological remains of outbreaks. Only two of them were in New York. It was usually enough to clean laboratories and secure zones after the detection of B.O.W.s in the area. In case of an outbreak or major event, TerraSave would usually provide more containers, but right now the organization was in chaos with the recent attack on their headquarters.

Jill's eyes opened wide. "I'll go pay them a visit and see how I can help." Rory reached for her arm.

"You go see Chris." He smiled at her. "I'll see if I can get TerraSave to speed up the process."

Jill gave him a thankful nod. "Keep me updated. I'll get back to the bay as soon as I make sure Chris is alright."

Rory shook his head.

"Stay with him, Jill. And get some rest. I'll check on the Alpha and Bravo Teams when I get the containers. I'll see you in the morning, fully charged and ready for action." He winked at her. "Also, the Captain needs your support now more than ever."

Jill couldn't help but smile. Rory Williams reminded her of Chris in his days at S.T.A.R.S., and that was indeed something he had in common with Piers Nivans too. But it was Chris. It was all Chris behind their commitment, ready to do anything to protect his team and complete his mission, supporting them, supporting her. She nodded at him.

"Thank you, Rory."

"Officer Valentine-" He narrowed his eyes and corrected himself, smirking slightly. "Redfield. Officer Valentine-Redfield."

As he turned on his feet, she bumped into a blonde woman who came running down the hall.

"Oh god. Sorry." She excused herself.

"Sherry?" Jill recognized her immediately.

"Jill!" The young agent threw her arms around Jill's neck and hugged her tightly. "I came as soon as I could. Where are they? The B.S.A.A. men told me they had all been brought to the hospital."

Jill nodded in concern and pointed two different directions.

"Leon is still unconscious, but he's out of danger they say. He's in room 305. Jake is fine. He's downstairs in room 288." She smiled sadly. "Your friend is a very tough guy."

Sherry gave her a thankful nod and smiled. She figured Jake complaining about being held in a hospital - in America.

"And Claire?"

Rory's jaw dropped as he and Jill stared at the young woman. The older woman looked down and touched Sherry's shoulder with her fingertips, afraid of breaking her.

"Sherry, listen," she whispered as she turned her towards the closest bench. Sherry's wide eyes stared at her in concern as tears filled Jill's eyes. "Claire...didn't make it."

She looked back at her, her face was like a porcelain doll; emotionless and pale. Only after what seemed like an eternity, she shook her head in disbelief.

"That can't be," she mumbled. "Claire can't die. She just can't."

Of course, she knew Claire was not a superhero and stubbornness was not an effective shield against B.O.W.s or the fire that consumed the warehouse. She hadn't even the regenerative power she herself had been given by the G-Virus, which meant that Claire had always been very human and, therefore, very mortal.

Sherry swallowed hard as Jill gave her a sad glance and took her hand to squeeze it tight. Finally, she felt the weight of the news and stumbled backwards, nearly missing the bench as she sat down. Her hand raised to her chest to check if her heart was still beating, since it felt like someone had ripped it out. Her mouth fell open, she tried to speak but could only make some pitiful sounds that seemed more like a whimpering child than a young woman. She shook her head again, looked up to Jill and burst into tears.

"No, Claire," she whimpered and put her face into her palms as she cried. Jill looked down at her and let a tear roll down her own cheek. She slowly bent over, embraced the young woman's head and stroked over her hair. She didn't know what to say. Claire had been like an older sister to Sherry ever since Leon and she had found the girl in Raccoon City and it seemed like she had built her whole life to follow in Claire's footsteps. Now that Claire Redfield was gone, Sherry reverted back to the little girl she had been in Raccoon, scared and alone. She sucked in a breath and turned to Jill.

"Leon."

"He hasn't woken up yet," Jill whispered grimacing. "But Jake told me he is very aware of the situation."

Sherry lowered her head and let the tears fall onto her hands.

"Can I see him?"

* * *

 

The dense smoke had been extremely harmful to Natalia's weakened lungs and she had been connected to a respirator during the ride to the hospital. She had been intubated to keep her breathing and the medical staff had her connected to machines monitoring her vitals. She had lost count of how many times they gave her medications and drew blood for testing. Now, she was calm and exhausted. Rather, Alex was calm; Natalia, on the inside, was screaming in guilt and pain. Moira hadn't been released from the intensive care unit because she was suffering from smoke inhalation and the medics were still fighting for her life. Barry and Kathy waited on the hall for any news. In the room with Natalia, there was only Polly. Alex somehow liked Polly. She was a good kid; not as loud and shameless as Moira, but cheerful and caring in her quiet way. Barry's close friendship with Chris had sewn the two families together and she felt a little jealous and misplaced in it all.

Polly was reading to her. Alex observed the sad expression on the girl's face, clouded with concern.

"Call Barry!" Natalia shouted all of a sudden. "Alex Wes-" She stopped shouting as she started coughing. Polly jumped up.

"Do you need a nurse? I will call one." She pushed the emergency button and ran towards the door. "Don't worry, they'll be coming."

Alex kept coughing as she watched Polly run out of the room nervously.

"Natalia." She hissed. "What the fuck are you doing?"

_It wasn't enough to kill Claire. You had to risk Moira's life as well. Now they're all sad._ Natalia had gathered enough energy to overcome Alex' will for a moment.

"What do you think they will do when they find out that we share a body, huh?" She whispered as the steps of a nurse down the hall approached the room. "They will abandon us with the B.S.A.A. or the government. Do you want that?"

The door slammed open and two nurses came running towards her. Alex coughed.

_Barry wouldn't abandon me._

The nurses, oblivious to their internal discussion, checked Natalia's vitals while the girl kept coughing.

_Yes, of course he would, my dear. What do you think he will do if he finds out that you risked Moira's life so selfishly?_

One of the nurses put a silver tray in front of her face and made her cough out all loose particles.

_But, this wasn't supposed to be dangerous for Moira._

The other nurse, an elder lady, hissed. "Where is Dr. Greene? He should really see this."

_Barry won't care about that. Moira is his daughter. Do you really think he will forgive you? Don't be stupid Natalia. You're just some kid he came across and felt pity for. You are expendable._

The door opened and Dr. Greene came in. He was a good-looking young man and also a high-qualified specialist in his area.

_But, he sees me as a daughter too, doesn't he?_

"Let me see that," Dr. Greene said as he bent over Natalia.

_Doesn't he, Alex? Alex?_

* * *

 

Jill opened the door quietly. Chris was sitting on the bed, staring at the TV screen in silence. A broken man in a hospital robe. It looked ridiculous on him, stretched tightly around his arms and covering too little of his back, probably. She walked to the bed and sat down next to him, touching his hand gently. He didn't flinch at her touch but he didn't look at her either. He made a smacking sound and breathed in some air. Jill stared at him and grimaced in pity.

"She's dead," he finally whispered. "They say she's dead." And tears filled his eyes.

She swallowed and kissed his hand. "I know, Chris. I'm so sorry."

"I didn't even see her." He grimaced in pain and turned his hand to take Jill's. He looked at her. He looked at her like she had the solution to this situation; like she'd tell him that everything had been a disgustingly bad joke and that Claire was waiting on the hall ready to laugh at him. The blonde glanced back as her eyes filled with tears.

They lay there in silence, she curled against his body and held him. No, she couldn't bring Claire back, but she could be what she'd always been. She was Jill Valentine and Jill Valentine stood next to Chris Redfield whenever he needed her.

And he needed her more than ever.

* * *

 

Sherry stood at the foot of Leon's bed, sobbing slightly, waiting for him to wake up. He had suffered from a carbon monoxide poisoning but was out of danger. Her thin hands curled around the frame of the footboard so tight that her knuckles turned white.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the door open. Hands looped around her waist and startled her.

"Jake."

He didn't say anything. He embraced her from behind and hid his face in her neck. Sherry glanced back at Leon, Jake's hot breath on her neck tickling her.

"Did I ever tell you that Leon joined the government because of me?" Sherry's voice trembled weakly as she spoke. Jake rubbed his nose over the curve of her neck. "After Raccoon City, people from the government found us. He was forced to work for them to protect me." She sobbed slightly.

Jake grimaced. "And even so, they ran hundreds of tests on you. What was the alternative?"

"They would have simply eliminated me." The woman shook with quiet anger. "They said I knew too much. Leon traded his freedom for my life and safety. Yes, I was locked away. I'm government property but I'm alive thanks to him." She swallowed the growing knot in her throat and shook her head. "We didn't have much contact. Simmons let Claire come see me, and she always told me Leon had asked about me." Sherry grimaced and gestured to the man in the bed. "Leon saved my life. He made an accomplished career of it though, despite it all. Leon Kennedy saved the President's daughter, he helped to establish the D.S.O., and he became their best agent. He saved the world like-" She blew out a breath. "One hundred times. Maybe thousands." She let out a little nervous laugh, shaking her head. "And now he just quit. I don't know how they let him do that. I mean, he kinda kept his part of the deal to save me, but I'm sure they're gonna send someone after him soon if they haven't done so already."

Jake lifted his head.

"Don't you think he's going back?"

She grimaced.

"I don't know. I really don't know what he's going to do now," she whispered and shut her eyes tight, a tear rolling down her cheek. "This can't be really happening. It feels so unreal."

"I know," Jake took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her fingers.

Sherry turned a little. "Is it true?" she swallowed. "They say Claire was already dead when the fire started. Is it true?"

Jake lifted a brow and nodded. "Yeah. She was already dead when I found Leon holding her." His eyes snapped to the unconscious man in the bed in front and narrowed. "I think she was shot."

Sherry noticed the suspicious tone in his voice and turned to him in anger.

"Are you suggesting Leon did it?" She ripped her hands from his grip and took a step aside. Her hateful glance sear him hotter than the flames that almost consumed them.

"Calm down, Supergirl, I'm not suggesting anything." He arched a brow and turned to walk towards the chair. His butt peeked from beneath the hospital robe that was tied up messily in the back. She couldn't avoid blushing a little. Jake and she had been seeing each other every time Sherry had been sent to Europe for a mission. Whatever country she was in, he came, travelled hundreds of miles only to see her, even if it was for one night. He usually played it down with the fact that he needed to get her some kind of information. The first time they met after China, he had kissed her. It had been her first real kiss after a dumb and childish peck she'd been given by a security officer the government employed to protect her. The guy had been so afraid Simmons would find out that he quit his job. What a pussy. But Jake was different. He didn't give a shit about rules and permissions. Not even her own. He had just pulled her into him and had kissed her without asking. She wouldn't have denied him anyway. She loved the attention he gave her and the first time he'd pushed his hands into her panties was something she'd never forget. He'd been fiery and passionate the day he'd first put his mouth on her, but smooth and gentle when he'd taken her virginity. Afterwards, they had been lying next to each other while Jake listened to her worries if the G-Virus would regenerate her hymen like it healed all other tissue.

Yeah, Jake and Sherry were something, and nothing at all.

He stared at her as she grinned absentmindedly.

"Sherry?" He furrowed a brow and caused her to shake her head. "I know Leon wouldn't do such a thing. I saw him."

The woman was about to reply as she heard Leon make a sound behind her. She sucked in a breath and turned towards him. "Leon! Leon, can you hear me? Leon!"

* * *

 

_Leon!_

He opened his eyes and looked around. The sun was shining brightly into the room and warmed it pleasantly. He rubbed his eyes and saw Claire standing in front of the sideboard with her bare back turned to him, combing her red locks. Naked. Beautiful. She was staring into the dresser mirror.

"What time is it?"

"Almost half past eight," the redhead turned and looked at him. And he saw her belly. She was huge. She was so impossibly pregnant he thought she might give birth any minute. Her hair fell over her shoulders. Her pale face smiled at him. "Maybe it's time to get up."

He sat up and gave her a sad smile.

"I had a nightmare; a horrible nightmare." He lifted his arm and invited her to join him on the bed.

"Oh," Claire whispered and waddled over to him. She sat down on the bed, rubbing her stomach. "Want to speak about it?"

He embraced her, burying his face in the space between her breast and her belly.

"I dreamt you were dead." He clenched his teeth and listened to her heartbeat for a moment. "You died in my arms."

"Oh," she whispered as she caressed his hair. "I'm so sorry, love."

And he held her closer.

"Don't ever die, Claire," he said chuckling, tinged with sadness. "Ever."

Claire kept caressing his hair and smiled tenderly.

"I promise that I will never die," she said softly. "Not again."

His heart skipped a beat and he furrowed a brow. Slowly pulling away, he looked at her sad face.

"It wasn't a dream, was it?" He asked. She smiled a little and shook her head. He looked down and took a deep breath. "Am I dead too?"

And her look was warm. "No."

"But all that smoke-"

"You're alive, love." She removed some hair strands from his face. "And you have to live."

He looked at her belly and put his hand onto it. "Can't I stay a little longer? Maybe until our child is born."

She laughed a little and put her hand onto his. "You can't, but I promise I'm gonna take care of him."

"Him?" He smiled regretfully. "It's a boy?"

Claire nodded.

"And he will look exactly like you," she whispered and cupped his cheek. "But now, you have to get up."

He nodded slightly, closed his eyes, cupped her chin and kissed her.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips, but didn't receive an answer. When he opened his eyes, Claire was gone and the room was empty and dark. No more sunlight shining through the window. No bed with soft sheets waiting for him to lie down. Only the mirror was still staring at him. He walked to the wall but couldn't reach it. He didn't seem to move from his position. The faster he walked, the further away was the looking glass seemed. Panic set in as he ran as fast as he could and he still couldn't reach the mirror. But he heard a voice.

_Leon._

He heard a voice.

_Leon._

It was a familiar voice.

"Leon! Say something!"

He opened his eyes and saw Sherry looking at him with her round face and the messy blonde hair around her little head.

"Leon," she said. Her eyes were shining brightly. Had she been crying? She probably knew about Claire's death already. The girl turned back and spoke to another person in the room. He noticed it was Jake. "Please call a nurse or a doctor or whoever." Jake nodded and sprinted out of the room. Sherry turned back to Leon and took his hand. "I'm so glad you're awake."

He licked his lips, heavily breathing.

"Chris-"

"He's alright. Jill told me he's already awake." She squeezed his hand as he nodded. "Leon, I'm so sorry." She lowered her head and sobbed quietly. Leon put his hand on her head. It was really small. She herself was so petite it was hard to believe she was a field agent if he hadn't seen himself that she kicked and fought like a pro.

"It's alright, Sherry." He stroked her head. "It's alright."

And the girl sobbed into his chest. She curled her slender fingers into his shirt and broke his heart. He didn't quite know what to say to her. Claire would have known. Claire would have told her to stop crying, would have encouraged her to be strong and stand strong against the tears and sadness and death. She would have made a joke about it. Or maybe not. He didn't know but she would have helped somehow. He, on the other hand, didn't know how to deal with other people's emotions. When Helena had lost her sister, he had taken her to China to eliminate Simmons. It's what he did; he fought evil to comfort the victims left behind. It was his only purpose in life and everything he was good at. But right now, there was no evil to fight. They could investigate who had been behind the kidnapping, but the ones responsible for it had probably died in the flames or were long gone, fading back into the underworld of filth and pure evil. So, he just lay there, stroking Sherry's hair and listening to her anguished sobs as they became sniffles and sighs. Sherry lifted her head and looked at him. Her face was slick with tears but she wasn't crying any more. She smiled sadly at him.

"How are Moira and Natalia?" His voice was weak and gruff, his glance, calm and focused.

Sherry nodded.

"Natalia is awake and ok. Moira is still in intensive care." She blinked. "It doesn't look good."

Leon grimaced regretfully. Moira had been weak and drugged when he had found her, but she had been alright. Now, she was struggling with death again. He shouldn't have left her behind. Claire wouldn't have left her behind.

He removed the covers and ripped the cables and tubes off his arm. Sherry yelped.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He gave the girl a bitter look as she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed. Damnit, when had she gotten that strong? In the shape he was in, he wasn't even able to fight a girl that was half his weight. He blew out a frustrated breath.

"I'd like to see Chris; to check how Barry is taking it and-" He lifted his brows and licked over his lips. "I want to get back to the warehouse."

Sherry shook her head in disbelief. "Leon, what for?"

Jake came back into the room and heard her last words.

"Because Claire's still somewhere in that building. Her body. I need her back." Leon looked seriously at Sherry, who had turned to him.

She parted her lips to protest but reconsidered. It was natural that Leon wanted to help with the search. She took a step back and gestured to a plastic bag in the corner of the room.

"Jill brought that for you. In case you needed it."

* * *

 

She forgot the phone in her hand as she felt the world around her had stopped, frozen in one agonizing moment

"Jill."

She looked up to see Leon walking towards her, followed by Jake and Sherry. He looked exhausted, but he was awake.

"Oh, Leon, I-" Tears clouded her vision as she spoke. "I'm so sorry."

Unable to give her more than a short nod, his look dropped to the floor.

"How is Chris?"

The name sounded foreign and familiar at the same time. She pursed her lips.

"He's-" she hesitated, fidgeting her feet. "He called Amanda."

Leon frowned at her, Sherry and Jake gave each other irritated glances.

"Sorry? What?" Was that some kind of codeword the B.S.A.A. used for  _going nuts_? Jill took a deep breath.

"I just went to see Barry and his family," she said nodding. "Moira is out of danger."

Sherry breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's good news." Leon wanted to be relieved, but the shape the blonde in front of him was in didn't let him relax.

"What's with Chris?"

Her felt the full weight of her eyes, and it was so full of shame, so full of sadness, it stole his breath.

"I was on my way back to his room when I got a call from Rory Williams." She had to take a deep breath to keep speaking. "He's there already. He's at the bay." She shook her head. "He asked the B.S.A.A. receptionist to take him there."

"Ouch." Jake's hiss made them look up and turn to him. Leon rolled his eyes and looked back at Jill.

"It's actually very considerate of him not to want to get you in trouble."

That made her laugh a little. She huffed out a sarcastic little laugh at the impossibility of Leon's theory. She wasn't a jealous woman, so she was pretty sure that she was being as objective as possible when she saw how Amanda treated her husband. And Chris had to be blind not to notice that the young woman was clearly interested in him. Jill looked at Leon and stroked over the oversized sleeve of the black shirt he was wearing.

"It's too large, I'm sorry." She smirked.

He shook his head and looked down at himself.

"They're perfect, Jill. Thanks for bringing me clothes."

He was in a black shirt and blue jeans that, obviously, belonged to Chris. What would barely fit around Redfield's upper arm seemed like his older brother's shirt on him.

"I assumed your own weren't wearable anymore and that you wouldn't like to run around with that hospital robe." She smirked sadly and glanced at Jake. "I brought some for you, too."

"They smell like Chris," Jake complained but jerked as Sherry poked him in the side. "What? They do smell like Chris."

Jill laughed a little. She liked Jake. He had a remarkable character and even though he didn't follow orders easily, he still knew when to do what was right for the people he cared about. Underneath his hard exterior and crafted carefree attitude, he had a good heart that had just been demolished and beaten into submission, especially at such a tender age. The fact that he had come to help Chris and Leon find Claire only because Sherry had asked him to was proof enough. She turned to Leon.

"Do you want me to give you a ride to the bay?"

He nodded.

"Can we go too?" Sherry took a step forward. Jill gave Leon a hesitant glance. He bit the inside of his cheek and furrowed a brow.

"As if I could stop you if I tried." She laughed, the first freeing laugh in what seemed like years, they were going to get answers, possibly closure or, at the very least, something to hold onto as the cold reality of Claire's death dimmed their world. She was their warmth, their light against the growing darkness, and now, they had to hold onto each other as each grasped for something that could light their way again.

* * *

 

She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt in her signature red color on the rooftop that dawn. The tumultuous crowd on the street wouldn't see her even if she wore a neon sign as a dress. In front of the warehouse, firefighters, policemen, B.S.A.A. soldiers, people from the government, journalists and gawking bystanders were running around like an upturned ant colony. The fire had been extinguished quickly but the specialists hadn't stopped pulling out B.O.W.s since then. It was impressive how the creepy guy had filled the warehouse with so many Lickers and Hunters in just one night. Ada pulled out a red apple and a knife and started cutting thin slices from the fruit as she watched other people doing their jobs. She herself had worked enough that night. Her device was full of pictures and voice notes, her pockets contained several samples she had found on her way out. She'd surely find someone willing to pay a nice amount of money for them.

The best thing that happened that morning had been the arrival of Chris Redfield along with a young red-haired woman, who could have been his daughter. She hadn't known Redfield liked them that young, but she was curious about what Jill Valentine or Valentine-Redfield was going to say about it. Since she had missed the main show of Claire Redfield becoming a B.O.W., seeing a cat fight ensue over Chris was an acceptable alternative.

She didn't have to wait very long until a black SUV arrived at the bay. Ada pulled out her binoculars to have a closer look. The woman behind the steering wheel was Valentine, no doubt. But who jumped off the passenger's seat was-

"Hello Leon."

* * *

 

He ran towards Chris and Amanda, who were talking to a young B.S.A.A. soldier whose badge said  _Williams_  and who was, no doubt, the man Jill had been talking to earlier. The young man looked concerned as he spoke to his captain.

"Chris," Leon called out. "Any news?"

And he saw Chris' face as he turned to him. He shook his head. He closed his eyes and the last thing Leon saw was his enormous fist fly towards his face. It came down on him with a noisy crunch and the taste of fresh blood. He stumbled backwards onto the ground to the sound of Amanda's screams. Jill came running towards them and threw herself against Chris to hold him back as he shook his hand.

"Chris, what the hell is wrong with you?" He tried to turn away but she held him, stabbing him with her gaze. He finally managed to look at her, showing her all the pain and hatred he felt.

"Jill," he whispered. "What are you doing here? Where is Summer?"

The blonde licked her lips and took a deep breath.

"She's home. Samantha, the neighbor girl, is looking after her." She shook her head. "What happened? Why did you do this?"

"Go home Jill. Watch after your daughter yourself. She needs you."

She stared at him as the hatred in his eyes stole her breath and froze her heart.  _Her_  daughter? Had he really just said that? Now she was only  _her_  daughter? Though she knew it was just the pain speaking, it hurt her immensely. She turned away to hide her tears as she felt them burn her eyes. Nobody could have ever hurt her that much. Not Wesker. Not any B.O.W. Only Chris Redfield and the denial of their daughter, the proof of their love, plunged into her soul like a sword. He had killed her, and all of a sudden, Jill Valentine, the warrior, was gone. Left was the shattered remains of a relationship on the brink and the pain of loss and betrayal.

Chris looked at her, then back at Leon, who was cleaning the blood from his nose on his sleeve as Sherry and Jake approached them. Sherry knelt down next to Leon, staring incredulously at Chris. He grimaced and sank to his knees, hiding his head in his hands.

"They can't find her. They can't find a single piece of anything that could have been her," he screamed. "You left her behind, you abandoned her to the flames and there's nothing left! How the fuck could you leave her behind, Leon?" Chris' eyes were flooded with pain, hatred, confusion and so many other emotions Leon couldn't face. What had he done? They wouldn't find Claire; she wasn’t there and they would bury an empty coffin. What had he done?

He let the truth sink in as his blood stopped dripping. He had wanted to protect her from the battle, that's what he had done. He had wanted to keep her body safe and bring her back to her brother. But he had failed. He swallowed hard. Throughout his career as an agent, he had often felt the feeling of failure; failing his team, failing the innocent victims of bioterrorism, failing the President, failing in love and wasting so many years he could have had with her...her, he had failed her. Nothing he had felt before had hurt as much as the failure of losing the body of the woman he loved. Leon Kennedy wasn't a coward, but for the first time in his life he wasn't able to look into the eyes of someone, as Chris kept staring at him.

"How, Leon? How could you abandon her?"

* * *

 

After Dr. Greene left, neither Natalia nor Alex dared to speak. At least not to each other. Barry had come to their room so Polly could go home and rest. Barry had told Natalia that Moira was out of danger and that she'd soon wake up. He had taken her hand and stroked over it. How relieved he looked. He was so glad Moira had survived.

"I heard that Claire-" Natalia managed to speak weakly after a deep breath. Barry squeezed her hand tight and nodded.

"They are looking for her body." He lowered his head and grimaced in disbelief. "I've never seen Chris this way. He's suffering so much."

Natalia looked at him. Chris and Leon weren't the only ones who were suffering, Claire's death affected Barry as well and it almost broke Natalia's heart. She didn't want to cause pain to her loved ones.

"I'm gonna check on Kathy and Moira again, but I'll be right back." He stood up and kissed the girl's forehead. "Rest a bit, Natalia."

As soon as he was gone, she jumped off the bed and ran to the small wardrobe she had in her room.

_Alex, what are you doing?_

"I'm saving our ass," she hissed as she opened her bag and digged through the clothes, looking for her tablet. "There's still a lot of work to do if we want to do the transfer."

_Didn't you hear what Dr. Greene said? We only have two months, maybe three._

"This is unacceptable." She pulled out the tablet from her bag and turned back to the bed. "I can't die."

_And what are you going to do, Alex? There is only one candidate with the T-Phobos left and she's injured. Also, last time we were simply lucky we stumbled onto Vång, and even with that, it still took us four months to execute the plan._

"Do you think I don't know that?" Alex hissed. "We will have to improvise."

_We already improvised this time, Alex. Vång improvised. For the sake of God, the capsule Moira was in was a recycled trash container._

"Don't be ridiculous. This is how cryostasis capsules looked like in the seventies. He just recycled old equipment." Alex sat on the bed and started working on her tablet.

_And who are you going to transfer into? Please, leave Moira alone._

Alex shook her head. "No, Moira is too weak and she's probably going to have side effects her whole life." She clenched her teeth. "We might have to trust our intuition since we can't repeat the selection experiment."

_And who are you going to take?_

"Well, if his sister was brave enough, Chris Redfield might be a good candidate as well."

_Chris?_

She felt the blood rush into her cheeks.

"What's the deal Natalia? Don't you feel comfortable with the idea of inhabiting a man's body?" She laughed. "I see, you've probably never seen a naked man, have you?"

_That's- That's not what I mean. I just think we should take someone smaller._

"Hm, I see your point. Polly would be an easy target but she has absolutely no field experience and would probably not be compatible with the T-Phobos." Alex shook her head as she typed their little brainstorming into a spreadsheet on the tablet. "How about Jill Valentine?"

_Jill has those super antibodies._

"Right, that might interfere with the T-Phobos," she bit her lip. "And of course, she might have given them to her daughter. Although, maybe it's worth a try. It would actually turn me into a superhuman."

_Summer is a year old, Alex._

"Dammit, I forgot she's still a baby." Alex hissed. "It won't be a good idea to transfer my brilliant mind into such a young brain. Also, I wouldn't like to risk being bathed and getting my diapers changed by a Redfield." She rolled her eyes.

_Alright, this might be dumb, but, what about Leon Kennedy? You heard Barry and Polly before, he just woke up, he's weakened and grieving._

"I see, Kennedy is more your type, isn't he?" And she laughed at the blushing that flushed her cheeks due to Natalia's embarrassment. "If we act quickly, we might actually be able to get him. Also, now that Claire is dead, he doesn't have any relation to Redfield and Valentine anymore. He could just disappear and nobody would care." Alex laughed maliciously. "The question is, is he mentally strong enough?"

_I remember Claire once said that there's no man stronger than Leon Kennedy._

"Well then, if the mighty Claire Redfield said so, it must be true."

 


	11. The Then

_A freezing wind blew around the building and whistled a sad melody. It was an abnormally cold March this year, and snow and ice were stretching the usual thirty-minute drive from the airport to Claire's apartment into one hour. But nothing mattered. They were together for the first time in weeks and their only concern was to make the most of their time together. She pulled him into the hall. Claire's place was tiny compared to the house the Valentine-Redfield couple lived in, but it was enough for them to be with each other. Small spaces were easier to fill with love._

_Once the door was shut, Leon pulled her into him as she ran her fingers through his hair. Their kisses were far from shy or careful and after many weeks of separation, all they wanted to show was the longing they felt for each other, how much they had missed the warmth of their bodies, their taste, their touch. He cupped her jaw with both hands and looked at her, causing her to breathe shallowly. He knew she couldn't resist that look, knew that she melted in his arms every time he held her like that, every time he kissed her like that._

_Desire. His eyes reflected pure desire and he made her feel more like a woman than anyone else could. He looked at her like a child looked at candy, something sweet to devour, like she was everything that ever mattered. She parted her lips, pleading him to kiss her again. He did, with a chuckle. He pressed his lips onto her chin and made her close her eyes in pleasure as she sucked in some air. Then, he caught her mouth again, their lips burning on each other's. His hands travelled down her body and pushed under her shirt, touching the soft skin of her stomach and her full breasts, ripping a short cry of arousal from her throat._

" _Shhhh," he hushed her placing a finger onto her mouth, softly rolling it downwards, parting her lips. She took her chance to bite it softly before he pulled it back and crashed his mouth onto hers again, hungry for her kiss, for her tongue. His right hand grabbed her neck and pulled her into him while the other one still played with her breast._

" _Take that jacket off," she gasped and the clothing landed somewhere on the floor as soon as she had spoken. She ran her fingers over his chest and bit her lip. She looked into his eyes, smiling widely, and pulled his black shirt up and over his head. He was a god, he had to be. He was all well-toned muscle and beautiful skin all over it and there was no way the man in front of her was human. He was just too perfect. She licked her lips and put her mouth on him, licking seductively from his neck, over his collarbone down to his chest. He yelped a bit as she bit his nipple and gave him the naughtiest smirk he'd ever seen. Fuck, he wanted her. He wanted her to spread her legs for him and never put them back together. His hands found her waist and pulled her up into his arms, before he walked over to the table and sat her onto the surface. Her hips on the edge, he rubbed his bulge against her. She moaned._

" _I missed this so much, baby." Her hands fisting his hair, she gave him a hungry look._

" _I missed it too," he mumbled chuckling and slipped his lips over hers again as his fingers worked on the zipper of her pants, jerking them down slowly, uncovering her blue panties, those with the little cream colored ribbon in front. Delicious. He smirked a bit. He couldn't wait to get into her. Claire laughed a little when he took a step back and pulled her pants off her legs along with her boots. She spread her legs a bit and welcomed him between her thighs. They rubbed against each other again, and he pulled her white shirt over her head and kneaded her breast through the blue bra with the tiny cream ribbon between the cups. She moaned again and pushed her hands into his pants, grabbing his throbbing dick._

" _Fuck, Claire," he gasped and bit her lower lip._

" _Yeah," she giggled unzipping him and taking his length out. "That's it. Fuck Claire."_

_He laughed a bit, but there was nothing funny about it. It was almost painful to see how much he wanted her and how little brain there was left for any other functions. He would have choked if his body didn't breathe on its own. Claire pulled down his pants and boxers and grabbed his ass, pulling him closer towards her. He roughly kissed her mouth and pushed his hand into her panties. She screamed as two of his fingers thrust into her, checking if she was ready for him. Ready wasn't even close to what she was. She was a mix of hot silk and fiery desire and he couldn't think of anything else he wanted more than being inside of her. With a single move, he jerked her panties aside and rushed into her, pulling her hips toward him. She laid her arms on his shoulders and leaned back, spreading her legs wide, wider, as they rubbed together. She moaned, he moaned, and they felt more complete with every move, every thrust. He found the clasp of her bra on her back and freed her white breasts from their cage, licking hungrily over one of them as he kept moving. She arched her back and he pushed her onto the surface. As if she wanted to climb onto him, she laid a leg over his shoulder. Leon grabbed her waist with one hand and her leg with the other and moved in and out of her, gasping heavily to the sound of their flesh clapping together._

_Claire touched her breast and killed him. She was so beautiful, so sensual, and she felt so hot around him that he thought it might burn him down to ashes. He was dying from it. He turned his head to her leg and kissed the soft skin there as if it could cool him down and save him. She giggled. She giggled and moaned as she threw her arms over her head, and he knew she was about to come._

" _Leon, oh god." He felt her leg stiffen slightly as her hands reached down and tried to grab his waist. If she got it, she would pull him so hard inside her that they'd probably have to cut him out later. Her hot insides tightened around him, and he let go of all strings that were still holding him back. He let go and came hard, deep and with a loud groan inside of her. He closed his eyes and bit her lower leg as Claire milked him dry._

_He opened his eyes again when he felt Claire shift a little. Their eyes locked and they smiled at each other, still panting. She sat up and embraced him, rubbing her nose against his ear and her hands over his back._

" _I think you got me pregnant," she whispered and bit his earlobe._

_He chuckled. "Sweetheart, I think they haven't even found their way to your egg." He pulled back and looked at her, smiling widely. "But thanks for believing in them."_

_She arched a brow at him and smirked sarcastically._

" _I'm not trying to offend anyone's sperm here, darling, but I didn't mean 'right now', you know that?"_

_Leon narrowed his eyes at her as he felt a smile crawl up his face._

" _Do you mean-?"_

_She smirked shyly and shrugged._

" _I haven't seen a doctor yet but I made two home pregnancy tests and they both came out positive."_

_He felt the muscles on his face tighten around his jaw as his lips curved a wide smile. He took her hand into his and kissed it, his eyes still looking at her. Claire watched his reaction and nearly died. It was so beautiful, so delicious to see the serious and professional Leon Kennedy's cold exterior melt in her hands at the thought that they would soon hold their own child in their arms. He cupped her jaw and pressed his lips onto hers._

" _Have I ever told you how happy you make me, Claire?" He chuckled against her mouth. "I love you."_

_And she cried. She cried of joy, or hormones, she wasn't sure. "I love you too." He held her and kissed her hair._

" _Maybe we should go see a doctor, shouldn't we?" He looked at her slightly red face and smiled as she nodded._

_He couldn't believe it, Claire was pregnant. He had married his best friend and now she was pregnant. Nothing would ever be able to take his happiness away from him._

* * *

 

**\- X -**

**The Then**

The ultrasound picture was already wrinkled and thin from all the times he had taken it out and stared at it. Claire had traced a small red circle around the unrecognizable dot that was supposed to be his child, since she knew he would probably lose sight of it.  _Our baby_ , was written in her delicate handwriting next to the mark.

It had been almost two months since he'd last looked at the picture and kissed it. It had been on the plane to New York, the morning of the day Claire had told him that they couldn't keep their child. It was the day she had been abducted; the day he had quit his job; it was the fateful day Claire had died in his arms.

Almost two months had passed since then. Two months of desperate searching in the ruins of that warehouse. The B.S.A.A. and TerraSave had secured the zone in a matter of hours, cleaned it up and collected samples from underneath the rubble of the building. They had found hundreds of dead B.O.W.s that hadn't been consumed by the flames. Dogs, Lickers and Hunters.

Leon had been with them, helping, searching, organizing. Chris had taken vacation from his usual responsibilities in the B.S.A.A. as well and was helping with the search for the remains of his sister. They met daily, but rarely talked. Jill had wanted Leon to stay with them. An offer he had declined at first, staying at a hotel to avoid running constantly into Chris at home as well. But Chris was never home, keeping his habits of sleeping in his office. So Leon kept his promise and came back to watch over Jill, so she wouldn't do anything stupid like trying to kill herself or her daughter. Summer was probably the only one who truly smiled in that house and she broke his heart every time she did. Her red hair and baby blue eyes were all Claire's features and it made him wonder what that little boy on the ultrasound picture would have looked like if he had ever reached his cousin's age.

They hadn't found Claire's body. At least, what they found wasn't identifiable as Claire's anymore. After the first check they had kept searching, but the part of the warehouse where she had laid had been burnt down to ashes. Not much was left of the walls and main building structure, how could a human body survive?

Chris hadn't wanted to accept the fact that he wouldn't get to bury his sister's body. Too often had he seen the empty coffins of his men disappeared into a hole in the ground. It was hard to understand that now his own sister was going to meet the same fate, and he blamed Leon for it. Their relationship had been brotherly ever since Claire and the agent had become a couple, but now that the redhead wasn't there anymore, all the respect and friendship they'd built up in the past seemed to have been burnt to a sunder along with her body. The two months since that tragedy, had been just empty. There was no other word to better describe it. Empty.

It was a punch in the face how long it took to organize the funeral, even though there was no body to bury. Or especially because of that. The B.S.A.A. helped with the organization of bodiless funerals, a special service for victims of bioterrorism. But their protocol said that at least fourteen days needed to pass after the investigations concluded. Which meant that after six weeks of analyzing samples, seeking for the owners of the building and interrogating witnesses, they had to wait two weeks more. So it came that Claire's funeral was held in June, two months after her death.

Leon himself had been checked exhaustively by Rebecca as soon as she'd found out he had been in contact with Claire's blood. Fortunately, he hadn't been infected with the T-Phobos. Not that it would have really bothered him after losing everything in his life he had thought to be stable, good. He sighed and checked his tie in the mirror. Black had always suited him, but the dark, sad suit he was wearing today just didn't match his cool demeanor. 'Whatever,' he thought. 'It will be just a couple hours.' He pulled out the ultrasound picture one last time and sighed.

"Alright, let's get this done."

Jill drove to the graveyard with Leon on the passenger's side and Sherry, Jake and Summer on the backseat. The little red-haired girl was oblivious to the low spirits in the car, playing with a little bunny rag doll, and giggling happily every time she threw the toy at Jake, who sat between her and Sherry.

"Summer, stop!" Her mother's voice rumbled through the car.

"It's alright," Jake said and gave the little girl a challenging look, pointing two fingers at her eyes, then at his own and back at hers, seeing her blink deliciously. He usually didn't enjoy children's company, but Summer Redfield had the most beautiful toothless smile he'd ever seen. "You, little miss, better be careful who you throw your dolls at, because one day someone might not want to give it back to you until you marry him." Summer shook her little red locks and squeaked out a laughter as her tiny hand grabbed the doll in Jake's hands. He managed to pull it back right before she caught it.

"Not all girls are willing to trade their freedom for a piece of cloth." Sherry gave him a sarcastic glance. Jake chuckled turning his head to the blonde, giving Summer the chance to punch his elbow.

"Ouch!" He theatrically rubbed his arm. "Really? Did your father already teach you how to defend yourself?"

"Her father doesn't teach her anything," Jill hissed into the rear mirror. "I bet that was her auntie."

Silence spread among the passengers. Even Summer stopped giggling as they remembered the sad reason they were together in the car for.

Leon was the first to react. He blew out a breath and chuckled.

"I once caught her telling Summer stories about Tyrants."

Jill huffed out a laugh.

"Last Christmas she cleaned a handgun in front of her and told her how to keep weapons functional, while Summer made bang sounds."

And now Sherry spoke.

"Did she teach her that she has to shoot zombies in the head as well?"

And they laughed. They laughed remembering Claire, her sunny nature and irresponsible maturity, until Sherry started crying.

"Oh my god, I miss her so much." She winced and held on to Jake's arm. The young man turned to her and stroked her hair, something the little girl on his right clearly disliked. Summer punched his elbow again and looked a little jealous into his direction.

"Hey, Princess. Don't worry. You're the only one who can throw her doll at me and still get it back."

Sherry's sobs turned into a slight giggles and Leon couldn't hold back a short smile. Sherry would be alright as long as Jake was with her, and the young man would be around for a very long time, he sensed.

As the car rolled onto the graveyard, Summer Redfield said her first understandable word.

* * *

 

Chris had been the first one to arrive at the graveyard. Amanda had asked to join him, but since half the B.S.A.A. was already talking shit about them he preferred to attend the funeral alone. So Amanda just checked the latest organizational details and would leave before the ceremony started. She looked good in her black dress and the red neckerchief on top. Her red hair was tied back into a ponytail that reminded him somewhat of Claire. He smiled sadly and pulled out the speech he had prepared. Just some lines meant to express how much he missed his baby sister. Everything had gone shit since Claire was gone.

He shook his head. Who was he trying to fool? Things had gone shit long before. And it was mostly his own fault. Things with Jill weren't easy, but his strategy of running away wasn't solving anything either. He missed Jill and Summer almost as much as he missed his sister. When the pain became unbearable he would drive to their house and watch if they were alright, never gathering enough courage to get out of the car and knock on their door.

He knew that Leon had come back. Where else was he going to go anyway? Leon Scott Kennedy was a workaholic and now that he was off the D.S.O., he could see Jill as someone to help; Summer as a target to protect. Chris grimaced at the thought.

He sighed deeply and stared at the lines he'd written and counted how often he repeated the words  _love_ ,  _miss_ and  _sister_  in them. He took out a pen and changed some words before folding the paper and sliding it back into his pocket. He would keep his speech short. Leon would surely want to say something as well.

He turned as he heard a car approach and frowned a little as he saw the passengers laugh in delight. All, except for Jill.

"I can't believe it," the blonde hissed as she got out of the car and grabbed the toddler from the backseat. Jake got out of the car behind her laughing. Chris walked towards his wife, furrowing a brow.

"What happened?"

Jill gave him an impatient look.

"She could have meant  _tired_ ," Jake suggested laughing. "Maybe she wants to take a nap."

Jill lifted a brow.

"She said  _Tyrant_ , Chris." She looked at him and couldn't hold back a laugh. "Our daughter's first word was  _Tyrant._ "

Chris got onto his knees and looked at the small redhead with the curious gaze in his wife's arms. He couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Is that true sweetheart?"

Summer giggled happily, showing the first tips of her little white teeth as she shook her red-haired head and grabbed her father's face. " _Tyren_!"

Chris grimaced feigning being hurt and looked up to Jill.

"Are you sure she doesn't think that I'm the Tyrant?" She smiled. "It's as if she said  _Daddy_." They held their glances as the little girl in Jill's arms kept petting his cheek. The blonde forced a smile as she handed him the child. He smirked and stretched his arms out to take up his daughter. Summer grabbed his nose and laughed as he made a beeping sound.

Jill watched them and a little ray of hope seemed to shine through the thick layer of clouds that had been covering their relationship.

Chris looked up from his daughter's giggling face and his eyes met Leon's. He gave Summer back to her mother and walked towards his friend, who waited for him next to the car.

"Chris." He said and a part of him tried to resist when the other man suddenly pulled him into a brotherly hug that didn't last longer than two pats on the shoulder. They held gazes until Chris took a breath.

"I think I owe you an apology, Kennedy." His lip twitched slightly as his eyes filled with tears. "I wasn't being fair. I just miss her so much. I hope you can forgive me."

And Leon smirked.

"It's okay Chris, you were right. I shouldn't have left her there." He shook his head. "I should have been there for here." Chris put a hand on his shoulder.

"You couldn't know about the fire. I would have done the same," he smirked sadly. "And Claire would have wanted us to save Moira over her dead body, too." And there they stood. Two men, linked by the fight against bioterrorism, but bonded together through the loss of their sister and wife.

Leon felt relieved to be talking this way to Chris and he followed him as he started walking towards the graves, they crossed Amanda, who gave Jill a curious look as she greeted her before leaving. The first TerraSave members had arrived already, and also the Burtons were looking for the best place to sit during the ceremony. It was easy to see that Kathy had been crying. Her eye makeup had already left dark lines on her cheeks and Leon felt his heart ache as she walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug.

"I know it's been two months already, but I still can't believe our little Claire is gone." She let go of him and wiped away the bluish stain of eyeliner and mascara she'd left on his cheek. He smiled at her.

Only five months had passed since he had made Claire his wife. Or since she had made him her husband. How easily a world can fall apart so quickly. Leon spotted Moira, who walked over the grass followed by her younger sisters. She waved at Leon and dragged the younger girls along with her. She had recovered well, however, who didn't look very healthy was Natalia. In her black dress with white collar and her long black braids she looked somewhat like Wednesday Addams. She studied him attentively with those dark haunting eyes of hers, her pale face stretching into a ghastly smile and it sent a shiver down Leon's back. What a creepy girl. He smiled and gave her a short nod before the teenager walked towards the rows of chairs.

Leon stared after her, slightly confused, as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked into Chris' eyes.

"What is it?" He asked and his friend smiled regretfully.

"The ceremony will begin soon," he said and looked down. "It would be nice if you could say some words."

Leon looked at him hesitantly. Of course Chris expected him to say something, he couldn't know that he wasn't the kind of man who gave speeches. He was a man of action, not of words. So was Chris, yeah. But Redfield seemed to be comfortable with the idea. Leon didn't know what to tell Chris; how would he know what to tell others? He tried to decline, shook his head slightly.

"I know I should have asked you before, but it doesn't have to be very complex. Just say what comes to your mind."

"Chris, I don't think I-" Leon said.

His friend gave him a serious gaze through narrowed eyes. Then, Chris blew out a short breath and nodded, patting his shoulder, understanding his uneasiness.

Leon tried to speak but Chris was already gone. He left Leon standing in doubt about how much of a torture this ceremony would become for him.

* * *

 

Sherry took a seat in the first row and stared at the empty coffin they were going to bury. It was a beautiful mahogany piece and way too expensive to be used for its purpose, but Chris hadn't avoided any costs for his sister's burial. The coffin was covered with hundreds of flowers sent by several organizations and private people who wanted to honor Claire. Her colleagues from TerraSave had brought a beautiful funeral wreath with pink ribbons saying  _We're going to miss your light_. Many of them had come to attend the ceremony. Claire had been respected and loved by most of the people she'd come across. Sherry smirked sadly. So many people whose lives Claire wouldn't light up ever again. The blonde looked at the portrait they had placed next to the coffin. It was a picture of Claire in her wedding dress, giving the photographer a coquette look over the shoulder and sticking her tongue out. It was either that or the serious picture she had on her TerraSave ID Card. There just were no other recent pictures of Claire alone.

She looked to her side as Chris took a seat next to Jill. Claire had often told her how worried she had been about her brother's marriage and little Summer and had been wondering how she could help them. Sherry smiled a little as she saw Chris grab his wife's hand. Jill lifted it to her lips and kissed it. She would take care of him and of them endless pain he was going through.

"Looks like you did help them, Claire."

* * *

 

The ceremony began with a classical piece of music Amanda had chosen. It was the sad but somewhat powerful melody of Mozart's Serenade No.10. It was fitting. Depressing but full of hope and light. Chris stood behind the lectern to give his speech.

"Thank you all for coming," he said after clearing his throat. "It would mean a lot to Claire." His look drifted over the crowd. "You know, when she was born, I was slightly disappointed. I had been told that I was getting a little sister to play with, but what I got was a tiny, red bag that smelled like baby powder and that screamed a lot. That was when she wasn't sleeping, of course, because Claire slept a lot when she was a baby." He laughed a little. "But what they didn't tell me is that I was going to love that little screaming bag like I hadn't loved anything before. And even though she turned out to be a stubborn little brat," and the crowd giggled. "She also became the loveliest and strongest person I could possibly wish to be my sister." He paused to swallow down the knot in his throat. "Claire was a compassionate soul and willing to live life to its fullest and not afraid to take any risks. It's not difficult to understand why she ventured out in that terrible line of work or why she always chose the life of others over her own. Including mine." He chuckled as he remembered how his sister had searched for him when he had disappeared to investigate Umbrella. "She brought light and hope to those who had none. She was a savior, and a person who you wouldn't leave your life once she was in it." Jill watched him speak. Chris was so broken, so sad, and every word of his felt like pure pain. Something tickled and burnt on her cheek. She touched her face to see that she was crying, too. Desperate sobs came from the rows behind her when Chris concluded his speech. "The early death of our parents bonded us in more ways and levels than the siblinghood. I had to teach her a lot, yes. But she taught me even more. She taught me a lot about balancing work, family and leisure. We became more than a family. We became the extension of the other. More than a thousand, we became one. Now, we have to let her go." Tears shot into his eyes as he turned to the coffin. "Letting you go doesn't mean forgetting you. We could never forget you, Claire. We'll just let you rest. And a part of me leaves and rests with you." A painful grimace filled the pause he made. "I miss you. I miss your light. I miss your joy. I even miss your stubbornness," He forced a smile. "Your memory will live on in all of us and keep us bonded always and forever. But I guess it's time to let you save someone else. Go in peace, go in kindness, my dear sister."

Some people gave Chris comforting nods from their seats as he lowered his head thanking them for their ears. Before her walked to his chair, though he turned to the microphone again.

"Now, my dear brother-in-law wants to share his thoughts with you." His glance flew to Leon. The blonde's jaw dropped as he heard his name. He froze. Hadn't he told Chris he didn't want to speak in front of so many people? What was he going to say? Whatever he could say wasn't something he wanted to share openly in front of others. But Chris' look said  _You owe her_. And he probably did. It was the least he could do for Claire. Sherry poked him in the side.

"Leon, are you going to speak?" She looked around shyly. "If so, you should probably get going."

He turned to her, then back at Chris, who was already sitting next to Jill, launching another challenging glance at him.

"Yeah," Leon whispered. "I will." And he got up. Jake frowned a little as he saw him rise. He had seen Leon when he had found him with Claire lying in his arms and since then, Leon Kennedy hadn't shown any kind of emotion. No joy, no sadness. It was hard to picture him giving a heartbreaking speech as Chris had done before.

Leon walked slowly to the lectern, trying to come up with the right words. The only thing he wanted to say was that it didn't make sense to tell them how much he missed Claire, because the only one he wanted to know that wasn't there anymore. He shook his head slightly, invisible to other people's eyes. And as he stepped towards the microphone and Claire's last words came to his mind, he knew what to say.

Chris watched Leon move to the lectern. It hadn't been very nice of him to make the blonde improvise a speech, but he was sure he would know what to say. Kennedy was a man used to society and if he could come up with a nice speech to get anonymous women to bed, he'd surely be able to say something nice about the one he had married too. He saw his friend speak to the young woman that stood next to the sound equipment and he frowned. Was that idiot actually flirting with another chick at his wife's funeral? He took a breath and decided to wait as the woman nodded and turned around to the speakers as Leon stood behind the microphone and leaned forward.

"Thank you all for your presence," he said shyly. "It doesn't make it easier, but it feels good to see how many friends Claire made on her way through life." He swallowed. "She hated funerals, so I'm not gonna make it long and better let Freddie speak for me and for her." He turned to the girl behind him and she pushed a button. The sound of a familiar melody spread over the crowd.

_Empty spaces, what are we living for?_

Jill took a deep breath and nodded.

Jake smirked a little and closed his eyes.

Sherry started crying immediately.

Summer clapped her hands to the music.

_Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on,_

_Does anybody know what we are looking for?_

The crowd held their breath as Freddie Mercury sang  _The show must go on_. Barry closed his eyes and embraced Moira, who leaned her head onto her father's protective shoulder. Natalia smiled widely, a little creepily maybe. Jill looped her arms around the girl on her lap and kissed her hair. Everybody seemed to think it was a proper way to say goodbye to Claire. Everybody expect Chris, whose eyes were filled with rage, anger. Leon held his gaze a while.

_The show must go on!_

_Inside my heart is breaking._

_My makeup may be flaking,_

_but my smile still stays on._

And he began to walk through the crowd. He walked away before Chris could get up and stop him; before anyone could stop him.

_I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now_

_I'll soon be turning, round the corner now_

_Outside the dawn is breaking_

_But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free_

They still had to put the coffin into the ground, but it didn't matter. It was empty anyway. Claire wasn't in there. Claire was everywhere where there was music, where there was sunlight. She would always be with him. Leon walked away at a steady pace towards the street, hoping there would be any cabs waiting to catch some passengers at the graveyard. But there was none. On top of that, it seemed like it was going to rain soon. He pulled out his phone to call the cab service when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him. Someone had come after him, he turned around, his eyes meeting Natalia's. She was still smiling her creepy smile.

"That was a very appropriate speech." She put her hand on her chest. "It touched me."

He frowned at the glance the girl was giving him from her pale face with those dark circles under her eyes.

"Thank you," he said. "How are you feeling?"

The girl shrugged.

"I should be dead by now, but I'm alive." She took a step forward.

_Alex, what are you doing?_

"You know, Mr. Kennedy, uhm, Leon," she gave him a sad glance. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

Leon smiled at the girl and looked around as he heard the sound of running footsteps approach.

"Kennedy!" Leon stared into Chris' angry eyes. "How dare you?" The older man grabbed his collar and shook him.

Leon licked his lips and looked away.

"I told you I couldn't."

"Is that the treatment she deserves?" Chris screamed. He let go of Leon's shirt and turned around angrily. "Some words, Leon. Only some words."

Leon's look dropped to the ground and he clenched his teeth. None of the men was paying attention to Natalia anymore. The girl bit her lip and walked away slowly.

"I wasn't made like this, Chris."

"What fucking excuse is that?" Chris hissed into his face as he turned around and held Leon's stabbing gaze. "She loved you," he said angrily. And those words seemed to move something in Leon. The former agent grimaced.

"I loved her too," he hissed. "I still do."

"Oh yeah?" Chris cocked his head to the right as he asked. "I think you're actually happy she's gone. Now you can get back to fuck every pussy you come across."

Everything went way too fast. Out of nothing, he curled his fingers into a fist and threw it into Chris' face. It hit the other man's lip the same moment the sound of thunder rolled over them and the earth seemed to rumble. Chris stumbled back. His lip had ripped open and blood covered his face from his mouth to his chin. Leon stared at him, shocked by his own reaction as the rain started falling down on them.

"I'm sorry, Chris." Leon breathed heavily. "But you're wrong. I don't miss my former life and I'm definitely not glad that she died." He shook his head and turned away. Chris prepared to run after him, in desperate need to fight someone, but an arm held him back.

"Chris, don't." Jill had come. She was trying to grab his arms and to hold him back, but he pushed her away. Chris pushed his wife so hard she fell to the ground. He turned around in shock as he saw the mud stains on her black clothes. Sherry stood some feet away, holding Summer in her arms. Luckily the girl didn't understand what was happening and just got excited as she saw her mother playing in the dirt. Jake approached them too.

The Jill got up and gave Chris a serious look of disappointment. Then, she spoke.

"Chris, stop looking for a culprit. Leon is suffering too."

"Why the fuck do you defend him?" He hissed. "On whose side are you?"

Jill stared at her husband, the raindrops falling onto her face causing her to blink more often than she'd have liked to. She swallowed and turned her head to Jake and Sherry, who still stood behind her holding Summer in her arms. She pulled her car keys out of her pocket and threw them at Jake.

"Take Summer home." With those words, she turned to Chris again. "I'll come later."

Sherry wanted to say something, but Jake touched her shoulder, telling her to leave them alone. This was something the Redfields had to solve on their own.

And there they stood. Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine, partners, friends, lovers.

"I'm on your side, Chris. And that's why I don't want you to suffer."

The silence almost shattered her when she started walking towards him. A pitiful sigh left her lips. She missed Claire too. The redhead had been so much more than just her sister-in-law. She had been her friend and the one who had stayed with her when everyone else was gone. But beyond that, Jill felt Chris' pain, his guilt. What she most wanted in the whole world, right there, was to hold him, to let him know she was there whenever he needed her. He had been strong so often for her. Now it was time to be strong for him, for both of them.

She felt how the air around her got colder with every step she took. She didn't even notice how she started shivering. Was it the cold rain pouring down on her? Or was it because she was afraid of speaking to him? Chris had been the man she loved, her partner and her friend for so many years, but now everything they were supposed to be had been torn away and what had seemed like something worth fighting for now had turned into a tortuous nightmare for both of them. This had nothing to do with Claire's death, or his anger over Leon's cold behavior. It was them. During the previous weeks and months, their only intention was to hurt each other. But in times of tragedy, the remaining love was everything that mattered. She reached him and tried to hold him. Insecurely, she lifted her hand. It shivered. Her whole body trembled. As if it gave her the strength to call out for him, she swallowed hard and eventually placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked down and took a deep breath.

"Go away, Jill." His voice was soft and tender. But his words were stabbing, rushing through her chest and killing her slowly. "Go home."

Her teeth began to chatter. Why was it so cold there? Jill thought and breathed. She could have left, but she decided to stay. At least he was talking to her. Her grip tightened around the loved shoulder. "I can't."

Chris blew out an impatient breath.

"Do you always have to be so stubborn?" He freed himself from her grip as he started walking up the hill. But he stopped. The far sound of people running around trying to find protection from the rain came to his ears.

"I am stubborn?" Jill furrowed a brow and walked after him. "I am not the one who is walking away. These are difficult times for all of us, Chris." She paused, waiting desperately for a reaction from him. "But turning away from everyone won’t make things any better."

"You have no fucking idea!" He turned around in anger and blew his words into her face. "You haven't lost the one person you promised to protect no matter what happened."

Jill's jaw dropped and her eyes opened wide.

"That one person?" She whispered in offense and swallowed hard. "I understand your pain over the loss of your sister, Chris, but if there is that one person you should always want to protect it should be your daughter. Because, yes Chris, she's  _your_  daughter too."

He stared at her, aware of his words and how they had hurt her. How they hurt himself. His look dropped to the wet ground. It stayed there.

"Of course she is." He clenched his teeth. "And Summer is the most important thing to me." It was true. He loved his daughter like he had never loved anything or anyone else in the world before, but the pain of his sister's death numbed him so much he wasn't able to think of anything else but the void she had left. He stared into Jill’s eyes, trying to analyze what he found there. Deception. Pity. Anger. Fear. All those emotions were amplified by the rain on her face and the tears. Even through the raindrops sliding down her face, they didn't hide her tears, and it frightened him. Jill was the kind of woman who never cried. When she did, it meant the beginning of an end.

"I wonder," she said, "if you still keep any feelings for me, when even your daughter means so little to you." She bit her lip and held his gaze, not sure if she expected an answer or if she just wanted him to walk away like he always did. The previous twenty years seemed to play in front of her eyes like a horror movie. Everything she had been through, every fear she had faced, she had always been strong with Chris Redfield by her side. Now the same Chris Redfield stood in front of her and she felt like it was him she had to fight. Something in his face shifted from pain to anger and back to pain.

"It would be easier," he whispered, breathed, swallowed. He threw his head back and closed his eyes. "It would be easier if you didn't lock yourself away, if you didn't yell and throw so much hatred at me, Jill. If you were just a little like the Jill I once knew, nothing would have mattered." He blew out a breath, trying to control the tone of his voice. He was aware, he knew that he was being too loud, too cruel to her. "The Jill I met was strong enough to fight everything without blaming others."

She stared at him, unable to feel him anymore. That invisible wall between them that had built up over the years had become impenetrable. he hadn't been given the tools to break through, not to mention the hammer and chisel to shape it into something that wasn't just a block of stone. Cold stone.

"That Jill needed her Chris Redfield, too, you idiot," she gasped and clenched her teeth, her fist, her toes. He had aimed for her heart, had shot his words into her chest and let them explode, leaving a gaping hole of despair and hatred. Now she would pay back every single syllable of his. The thought ran through her mind in the desperate search for something to hurt him, something to equally kill him with. They would never use force against each other, unless someone was under Wesker's control. But they could both come up with extremely creative insults that had no other purpose than to break and maim. "But now, what I realize is that I always needed the other Redfield. Claire was what brought us together and Claire is what held us together." That one sentence had been sharp and evil but she wasn't finished destroying him. What was that emotion on his face? Had that hurt him? Good. She would give him more bitter pills to choke on. "You did a fantastic job raising your sister, Chris. Claire was much more of a man than you will ever be."

"Jill, what the fuck?"

"What?" She shouted. "Didn't you think the same thing yourself when you called her to look after your family when you didn't know how to handle the mess you caused?"

His eyes. Oh, his eyes. They reflected shame, fear, sadness. She knew it. She had hit him hard and a part of her wished it would kill him. The other part, the part that still begged for this to stop, to hold her, was dying with every word she aimed at him.

When had they become this? When had they stopped being partners and started seeing each other as an enemy? Chris watched Jill's scowling face and hoped desperately she would all of a sudden start to laugh and tell him everything was going to be alright. She didn't. She kept staring at him and he started wondering if there was still something of his old partner hidden behind that hateful, cold gaze of this stranger. She had been everything he needed. He would have given his life for her, and now they couldn't stop blaming each other for everything that was going wrong in their lives.

"Jill." Her name sounded empty as he spoke it. As if it had lost its meaning. "I think I need some time on my own." And as he said that, he wasn't sure if the words hurt himself more than they hurt her, but it was time to be completely honest.

She kept staring at him. Was he giving up? Was he really giving up so easily? She felt the tides turn. She looked into his eyes and understood. She was tired of the whole struggle too. Jill took another breath and suddenly couldn't hold Chris' look any more. Her lips tried to build a smile and failed. Before she could even think about it, she was nodding her head.

"Okay," she whimpered quietly. "So, this is it."

It wasn't a question, so it didn't need an answer. They had fought for too long; had broken each other too often. And now they stood face to face, willing to put their guns down and their hands up. He hated seeing her like that, but he knew it was the best for both of them. His hand reached out for her face and cupped her cheek. She rubbed it into his palm as she put her hand onto his and gave him another glance full of hope, and she cried. She cried so desperately it broke him once again. There, on the graveyard, in the rain, he pulled her into a hug and, for the first time in months, Jill didn't resist.

Their relationship was over.

But so was their war.

 


	12. The away

_Of course he had flirted with her the first time they'd met. At least, he had tried to. He was handsome and kinda cute with that perfect blond hair and that wide shameless smile on his face. His eyes were screaming he wanted to push her into the next closet and fuck her stupid. He had shown up at the B.S.A.A. headquarters to meet Chris and all other female agents had been crazy about the handsome blonde the moment he had stepped into the building. She was sure that one of them had even managed to slide her panties into his pocket; not before writing her phone number onto them, of course. She herself had found their reactions equally amusing and desperately ridiculous. Their job was serious enough without these sexual distractions when they were on duty. And so, when he had come to speak to her, leaning unconcernedly against the coffee vending machine and giving her that smirk, she hadn't followed along with his game. "Kid", she had called him in a despising tone, "I'm out of your league, so take a hike". But he hadn't cared; had even seemed to like her behavior. That man liked challenges, no doubt. He had kept flirting with her for a while, unable to get her name, until he'd asked her out for dinner._

_Just then, Chris had appeared and had revealed him her name. The boy's jaw had dropped and he’d frowned in regret. Apparently, Leon Kennedy didn't want to fuck you if your name was Jill Valentine. Many years later, Claire had told her why he had lost interest so quickly. As it seemed, little Kennedy actually had some respect for others. His friendship with Claire had kept him from making a move on the woman she considered her brother's. They never spoke about their first meeting and Leon never tried to get into her pants again._

_And now he was there in Chris' office on a cold April night in 2013._

" _Leon, what a surprise," she said wiping away the silent tear of desperation that had rolled down her cheek before. "I'm sorry. If you're looking for Chris, he's still missing." She swallowed hard and shrugged as if her words didn't drag along the collapse of her whole world._

" _I see," he replied drily. "I just stepped by to check some files and saw light in his office." He looked around. "I hoped he might be back."_

_Jill smiled and shook her head._

" _Unfortunately not," she said, feigning to be calm. "Our men are following his trace in Edonia."_

" _So he's alive." Leon furrowed a brow. "What keeps him from coming back?"_

_Jill stared at him._

" _Hasn't Claire told you?"_

_He glanced back at her and ran his fingers over the desk, headshaking._

" _We don't talk very much lately." He lifted a brow. "Has anything happened?"_

_She shook her head a little._

" _He hit his head and suffered amnesia." She shrugged. "He might still not remember who or where he is."_

_He kept silence. Chris being alive was good news but the fact that he didn't remember his previous life, including his job, family and girlfriend, concerned her on a personal level. As her mind raced, she saw that look in Leon's eyes and she knew that he understood too. He understood her worries, her doubts. He understood that she feared what he could be doing or, in his uncertainty about who he was, that he might get into trouble with the law because he needed money, or that he even might be happy with his new life and never come back. Jill Valentine had never been a jealous woman, but Leon saw that she feared he would be happy in the arms of someone else. He saw it, and he didn't say anything._

_He cleared his throat. He looked at her, and he smiled._

" _He will and then he'll come home."_

_And he looked so handsome as he spoke. His smile was warm and trustworthy and looked so impossibly good on him that she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could tease him a little more and get to see the cute little boy again who had been flirting with her so shamelessly back when they had first met. She didn't mean to end up thrown onto the desk by him, especially not on to Chris' desk. But the thought of receiving a little attention somehow thrilled her. She didn't mean to bite, just to bark a little. She smiled at him._

" _Want a drink?"_

_He accepted the Scotch she served him reluctantly, but she knew he wouldn't be able to decline a glass of a three hundred dollar bottle. Chris had fine taste when he wanted._

_When she turned back to him after filling the glasses again, one more button of her shirt was undone. It was impossible for him not to notice. But he held her gaze and didn't even try to peek. What a gentleman he could be. Leon Kennedy, famous for his brief affairs with too many women, was not even getting nervous at the glance of her full cleavage. It was so cute how he resisted. But Leon was just a man, and he'd surely risk a glance if she went a little further._

_Leon frowned slightly at her._

" _Jill, you okay?"_

_Jill smirked and turned around to get a folder from the shelf behind her._

" _There is something Chris wanted you to have." She opened the folder and leaned wide over the desk as she scrolled through the pages, always keeping an eye on Leon's reaction. The man came closer to read the latest report on a group of terrorists that had been operating from New Zealand. He lifted a brow._

" _Interesting."_

_Jill smiled._

" _This is confidential, of course." She looked at Leon's face as he turned to her. He was so close. He had a tiny scar on his jaw and she found it just lovely. She turned a little to him and rubbed her shoulder against his arm, and there it was. It was almost shy and so extremely brief she could have thought she'd dreamt it, but his look dropped to her breasts. Yes. She had to bite her lips not to smirk widely. He had looked away instantly, of course, focusing on the report again. So cute._

 _She held his gaze and wondered how he'd taste. How long would it take for her to seduce him if she really tried, if she discreetly rubbed her breast against his arm, making it look like a fortunate little accident? Would he take her right there in Chris' office or would he want to do it outside? Where would_ outside  _be? In the bathroom across the floor or in her apartment across the street? Would he even get that far? Maybe he would just kiss her, fondle her, and eventually pull back and apologize. Whatever, even the tiniest move would be a huge boost to her self-esteem. She shook her head a little and pushed the idea out of her mind. She wouldn't be able to cheat on Chris, would she? The thought of her boyfriend and the possibility of him being buried inside a random slut right now caused her to shiver in disgust. He wouldn't have to find out if she cheated. Everybody can make a mistake and her loneliness and concern was a damn good reason to make one. She closed her eyes._

" _Are you sure you're alright?" Leon asked concerned. "Maybe you should get some sleep."_

_How nice. She opened her eyes again and let her gaze tell him to kiss her. Chris had never understood that look when she'd given it to him in the past, not even now that they were actually a couple. But Leon was an experienced womanizer. He had to get the signs she was sending him. She pursed her lips a bit, only a little bit, and smiled._

_Unfortunately, Leon had other plans. He quickly closed the folder and gave her a genuine smile._

" _I better let you rest. I have to get going anyway." He headed to the door, turning around before leaving the office. "Thanks for the drink and the info, Jill. And don't worry, Chris will be back soon."_

_A second later, Leon Kennedy was gone. Jill stared at the door and couldn't hold back a regretful smirk. She hadn't believed him to be such a huge coward._

_A coward that had kept her from cheating on her boyfriend that night._

* * *

 

**\- XI -**

**The Away**

Sherry stood next to the window, waiting for anyone to come home. Jill, Chris, or Leon. After their fight in the graveyard, Jill had asked them to take care of Summer and so had they done. It had taken them a while to calm her down, but now the girl was finally sleeping tight. It was already night, the rain was still pouring and nobody had arrived yet. As the hours passed, the situation concerned her deeply. How could Chris be so stubborn? And how the hell could Leon be so cold? Fist clenching, she tried to remember if she had ever seen him lose his manners before punching Chris' face that afternoon. Had she ever seen Leon not calm and focused? No, never. It was who he was, how the government made him. She shivered as she felt hands on her arms, she turned her head and smiled sadly at Jake. Her hand travelled over his arm and shoulder up to his neck and cupped his jaw as her big eyes studies his features. She touched the huge scar on his face.

"Thank you for being here," she whispered. "I guess you have better things to do somewhere else on this planet." She sighed. "And even so you're here. Thank you."

Jake turned her completely in his grip and kissed her mouth. Soft and slow, mostly lips and only little tongue. Yeah, that's how Sherry Birkin liked to be kissed. It was meant to say  _You're welcome, you can always count on me_ , but what Sherry seemed to understand was  _I want you, take your pants off_. And she didn't even complain. She startled him as she pushed her cold hand under his sweater and up to his chest. He broke the kiss and pulled back giving her a doubtful gaze she only countered with a sweet and innocent smile. Only that it wasn't innocent at all.

"Really?" he asked. "Here?" She nodded. "Now?" He lifted an eyebrow but only got another nod in response before Sherry pulled his shirt up and over his head while he obediently lifted his hands. No, not in his wildest dreams had he imagined he'd ever get a good girl like her, but he wouldn't complain. And he was more than willing to lose himself between her thighs, on top of her, under her and, of course, inside of her. Whatever it took to make her feel better. He caught her lips again as his hands unzipped her thin cardigan and slid it slowly off her shoulders. Her tiny hands explored his back, sliding downward from his shoulder blades down to his pants. She pushed them into his pants and grabbed his ass. He loved it. Sweet, little innocent Sherry Birkin could be so naughty and kinky when they were alone. He cupped her breasts and kneaded them with both hands through her white bra, barely covering them with his palms. They were unproportionally big for her tiny body, but he loved inspecting her curves with fingers, lips and tongue. She tasted like freedom, most of the time. He brought his mouth down onto her neck and let his tongue trace a wet line down over her collarbone towards her breasts as his hands reached for the clasp of her bra on her back. Sherry tilted her head back and closed her eyes, simply feeling his touch on her skin. Jake started to feast on her breasts, making all kinds of shameful sounds as soon as her bra found the floor. She gasped a little as he unzipped her pants and pushed his hand into her panties.

Sherry grabbed his head and made him look at her, intensely, before she kissed him again, passionately, as if devouring him whole. He looped his arms around her tiny waist and pulled her off the ground as she held on to his shoulders, her mouth gasping and her legs dangling loosely from her body. He turned around and threw her onto the bed, where she hit the mattress with a slight squeaking sound of surprise. She took off his belt and let his pants and boxers fall to the floor. He kicked them away along with his shoes and climbed onto the heavily gasping, half naked girl in front of him. It was beautiful how innocent she looked with her white panties with that tiny pink ribbon on them glimpsing out of her tight blue jeans. Her look was the opposite. It said  _Take me_. As she slid her bare feet up his thighs and behind his waist, pulling him into her. He laughed and bent over to grab the waistband of her jeans and pulled them down her legs, kissing the toes of her left foot as he removed the clothing. Sherry giggled.

"Would you do that too if I hadn't had a shower before?" He smirked maliciously and tickled her sole, causing her to jerk, bounce and bite her lip. She gasped as her hand reached down to her panties and touched her spot through the wet fabric. Jake licked his lips as he let go of her foot and grabbed her thighs instead, pulling her round ass to the edge of the bed and kneeling in front of her. She sucked in a breath as he pushed her panties to one side and put his mouth on her.

Yeah, she did taste like freedom. She was so impossibly sweet and sour at once, that he thought his tongue would melt on her spot. She moaned as he pushed the tip of his tongue into her, and soon her nails found his shoulders to mark him, to tell the world his face had been between her thighs that morning.

"Jake," she whispered and he looked up without stopping his tongue on her slit. Her body shivered under his touch and made her breasts bounce deliciously. He chuckled against her lips as she bucked and he held her thighs tightly. He reached down for his shaft and rubbed it, thinking of the soaking wetness that was waiting for him to get in. He kept licking her, tasting her, and he wouldn't let her go until she came. And she came, arching her back and pulling her legs back until he let go of her.

She returned his bratty smirk as he climbed onto the bed and opened the drawer of the nightstand. He ripped the condom open and rolled it over his length before lifting Sherry's left leg and pushing into her creamy heat.

Her breathing became shallow as he found his way into her. She burnt around him as he slid in and out of her, and she stole his breath and soul. He leaned over her and cupped her blushing face.

"Kiss me," she pleaded, and he did. He kissed her wet and deep as her hands grabbed his ass and drilled her nails into his flesh. She tasted herself on his lips and nothing could have gotten her wilder than the thought that he had just licked her to her orgasm. She opened her mouth and pushed her tongue into him, sucking on his as if her life depended on it. He moaned into her cavity, grabbed her hands and threw them over her head, eager to possess her as her legs just popped open a little wider for him. Her full breasts bounced heavily with each thrust of his and her hardened nipples rocked against Jake's chest. The touch tickled him and he laughed; he laughed and sucked her mouth as he pushed her wrists down onto the mattress with just one hand, the other gliding down to her breast to roll it in his palm. And, oh god, she loved it.

She screamed as she came, jerking, turning and almost crying, and she kissed him again until he released as well, gasping and laughing. What an image. Two people, crying and laughing after fucking. He lowered his head and rested his forehead on her shoulder, letting go of her wrists. She wrapped them around him and caressed his nape as they both recovered breath.

"Did I ever tell you," she whispered staring at the ceiling, "that I think I'm in love with you, Jake Muller?"

He smirked and turned his face to her.

"No, that's a detail you missed sharing." He gave her a deep gaze and smiled at her. Sherry smiled back.

"Now you know." She nodded in agreement with herself and blinked at him. Jake hesitated. "It's alright, Jake." she closed her eyes. "You don't have to say anything. I don't expect an answer, if there is a good one."

There was a good one, just that he wasn't a man who shared his feelings easily. He was goddamn sure that he was in love with her as well, the cute blonde girl that had come to find him in Edonia and that was now lying next to him, covered in sweat and proof of their lovemaking. But if he'd ever tried to say he loved her, he'd probably burst into laughter. So he just rubbed his nose against her ear and chuckled as she shivered under him. He held her until they fell asleep.

* * *

 

Everybody seemed to be sleeping already when he came back, slipping silently into the house as if he was a thief, trying not to wake anyone. He had been walking through the rain for hours trying to calm himself down after his fight with Chris. But the only conclusion he got was that he had to leave. It wasn't sure if Chris and Jill would be alright, but at least there wouldn't be anyone to piss Redfield off. He had already failed Claire once that day by punching her brother's face when he had promised her to take care of him. He definitely didn't want to mess up even more. He sneaked to the second floor and into the guest bedroom where he had been living already when Claire had been still alive and ripped the wardrobe open.

Shirts, pants, socks, boxers, his gun. His whole life seemed empty and unfulfilling as he saw it stuffed into the small suitcase. He had one last look into the wardrobe, as if he actually expected to find something in there. The room seemed now fuller of life than before he had packed. He let go a sigh. Chris would surely enjoy his absence, maybe it would even cause him to come home. Although the older Redfield, rather just Redfield now, was the kind of man who found arguments and discussions somewhat thrilling as long as he didn't have them with his wife.

Leon stretched his fingers and grabbed the suitcase, shocked by how weird it looked on the figure he met accidentally in the mirror.

"You're getting old, man," he whispered to himself. He turned to the door, surprised to find Jill standing in the hall. She was soaking wet and Leon assumed she hadn't arrived much earlier than he had.

"You're leaving?"

He tightened his jaw. He would have rather disappeared without a trace, avoiding explanations and long goodbyes. But the truth was too obvious to deny now. He nodded.

Jill didn't reply. She walked towards him, straightening her clothes nervously. When she stood in front of him, she took the suitcase from his hands and left it on the floor as an order for him to stay a minute longer. They looked at each other for a moment; a long moment. He could clearly see her concern.

She breathed in. "Where are you going?" Her look of wary hope, of trying to make him reconsider; that it would make him stay.

"I still have my apartment in D.C." He shrugged, causing her to nod in disappointed approval.

"You have a home here, Leon." She smiled, with a hint of sadness on her face. "No matter what Chris thinks, says or does. We are a family now."

He huffed out a laugh and bit his lip, grimacing slightly.

"He doesn't want me here, and I don't want to be here either," he said as he looked around in sorrow. "There are too many memories here."

Jill nodded and gave him a comforting smile. Her hand travelled up to his shoulder and patted it sisterly.

"I understand," she whispered as she took another half a step forward. "But please remember that you're always welcome here. Claire wouldn't want to see her family break apart."

He smirked regretfully and just nodded at her.

And then, she looked at him; she looked deeply into his eyes. Leon was so different from Chris. Chris was impulsive, hot-headed and passionate in everything he did. Leon on the other hand seemed calmer, colder. It was his way to handle all the shit he had seen; how he confronted it. It was how he had to be; how his training had made him. But behind those blue eyes, Jill saw the boy she had mistakenly thought he was when they had met for the first time, so many years before. Leon Kennedy had already proven that he was not a helpless kid who played agent, but he wasn't the heartless soldier Chris saw him as either. Maybe he was even more emotional than  _Big Redfield_  himself. Also, he was goddamn handsome and smelled like wood and leather, which made an interesting mixture with the fresh scent of the cold rain on him.

"I know how you feel, Leon," she whispered, letting her hand travel slowly to his neck and up to his cheek. The soft caress didn't seem to bother him. "You feel lonely." She nodded as he narrowed his eyes. Apparently, he didn't like those words and Jill felt as if she had caught him off guard. "It's alright. There's nothing to be ashamed about." He tried to complain as she ran her thumb over his lower lip, but Jill was faster. In a matter of a second she had closed the space between them and softly caressed his lips with hers. "I am lonely too."

His body stiffened and his impatient breathing told her he wasn't quite enjoying what she was doing. She felt his uneasiness run from his lips into hers like electricity, but he didn't stop her. She had her eyes shut, while his were still open, wide open. She could feel his doubtful look on her as she softly nibbled on his lower lip. She didn't know what she was thinking, or what she had thought in the first place, but it felt good to kiss him. Jill had so much love to give. And if Chris wasn't there to receive it, she'd have to find someone else or she'd burst. Too bad Leon wasn't doing anything about it. She was already thinking about the explanation she'd give him afterwards for her behavior, when, all of a sudden, his lips moved.

Maybe he was lonely too. Maybe he missed his Claire so much that a part of his mind thought it was her he was kissing. Maybe he had spent too long without sex and his body was reacting instinctively like an animal, hungry for a touch. Whatever had happened, it seemed to be too late for regrets. By kissing Jill back, he had probably given her too much. She was gaining confidence, pulling him closer and licking softly over his lower lip asking him to open his mouth to her. He didn't want to, but he did. He let her tongue slide into his mouth to meet his as his left hand travelled up to her neck and pulled her closer. The right one ended on her waist. She moaned. Her body felt warm under his fingertips; comfortably warm. Jill had always been an incredibly beautiful woman and neither the blond hair nor motherhood and depression had changed that. The day he'd met her he'd have killed to get Jill Valentine to kiss him that fiercely, but now, something didn't feel right about it.

She tilted her head to the right to deepen their kiss. With their mouths open wide they twirled their tongues hungrily over each other's as her hand started exploring his torso. It had been so long since Chris had kissed her like that and her body longed for physical contact. Leon was still hesitant. She would have to take control of the situation if she wanted this to get somewhere. Slowly, she started unbuttoning her own shirt.

The soft touch of her skin under his fingertips took him by surprise, but Jill taking his hand and guiding it right to her breast left him so shocked it brought his mind back from wherever it was. No matter how good her kiss felt or how naked she was all of a sudden, it wasn't enough to silence the voices in his head. She was Chris' wife. He couldn't do that to him, couldn't do that to Claire's memory. Needless to mention that Jill would regret it too; maybe not today maybe not tomorrow, but she would regret it. He broke the kiss and looked at her.

She didn't want to understand at first. She was willing to take him wherever he wanted to be and tried to bring her lips to his again, but his hand pushed her back.

"Jill, wait."

Her confused look turned into pure shame as she finally saw it was over. She bent down and grabbed her shirt, holding it in front of her chest in an attempt to cover her nudity. The shy image of what the once so self-confident Jill Valentine had been was almost heartbreaking. Almost.

She couldn't look at him. She'd just stay where she was until he'd leave the room and then hide under the blankets, squeeze her eyes shut and pray this was all a nightmare. However, as she watched Leon take up his suitcase again, she wasn't able to hold back her questions.

"You could've fucked me, Leon," she whispered right into his narrow-eyed face. "That night in Chris' office. When he was missing, and god knows where."

He lowered his head and smirked regretfully.

"That-"

"But you didn't," she said before he could even articulate a complete sentence. "You didn't do anything. You just left me standing there; just the way you're doing now." She looked into his eyes. "I just never knew if you did it for Claire or for Chris back then."

Leon gave her a serious glance. Jill wasn't who she used to be and deserved a better treatment than what Chris was showing lately, but that wasn't going to change anything about the situation. If it had been a different woman in a different moment, he would have laid his arms around her. But any type of friendly touch could've been misleading right now. He swallowed.

"For both," he said as he slowly walked towards the door, leaving Jill behind. She was still covering her chest with both arms and the shirt as she lowered her look and stared at the floor. Leon grabbed the door handle and looked back at her. "But the one I most did it for was you, Jill." She turned around in surprise and what she saw on his face disgusted her.

"Stop pitying me, Leon. Just stop pitying me." Anger was written all over her face as she spoke. He stayed calm as he shook his head.

"You're wrong," he said. "I'm not pitying you at all." He took a breath, hesitant about what he was about to say. "I'm actually mad as hell right now."

She arched a brow and her gesture turned into a doubtful, sarcastic glance.

"Mad?"

He sighed.

"Claire is gone, Jill, and she won't come back." He swallowed down the aching truth along with the knot in his throat. "But Chris is alive. You have a good man for a husband and a wonderful little daughter." He swallowed hard, trying to find enough impulse to press the words out of his mouth. "Don’t throw that away so mindlessly."

With those words, he left the room. Jill stayed. She just stood there waiting for the tears to come. It didn't take them very long. It started with one tiny drop running down her right cheek. Shortly after, her face was completely flooded. She sobbed quietly as the tears, burying her face in her shirt now soaked with tears. How stupid she had been.

She didn't know how long she'd been standing there when the cry from the nursery caught her attention. Little Summer was calling for her mother.

"I'm coming, Sweetie!" she slipped her shirt back on and wiped the tears away as she went to see her daughter. The moment she found herself in her mother's protecting arms, the girl giggled happily. Jill observed her attentively in the dim light of the room. She was really the most beautiful little girl she had ever seen. It was better she had inherited Claire's red hair rather than her own white-blond strands. Jill smiled tenderly as she noticed that the tip of her daughter's nose was round as her own. Maybe over time she would resemble her even more. She rubbed her nose against her daughter's.

"Shall we pay your daddy a visit tomorrow?"

* * *

 

It was almost midnight when he landed. He had taken a cab to the airport and gotten onto the first plane to D.C. in a desperate attempt to find a place that didn't feel like rejection and despair.

She was there. She wasn't awaiting him with balloons or a big  _Welcome home_  or  _Sorry your wife died_  panel. He didn't even get a hug from her. What he got was a smile; a shy, sad smile. But it was a smile coming from the heart, which wasn't something frequent in her. Before he got to know her better he hadn't quite known how to read her gestures and faces, but he had learned it was her nature. She just looked like she was chewing bitter almonds all the fucking time even when she was supposed to be happy and excited as shit. But now, Helena Harper smiled for him, and he truly appreciated it.

"I thought you could use some company when you landed," she said as she turned around and walked next to him to the exit.

"Yeah."

That was it. It was everything they managed to say, and everything they needed to say. He didn't even want to ask her how she'd found out he was coming back to D.C. She wanted to be there for him and he didn't need to know anything else. He had been there for her too. After Tatchi, he'd always been there for her to scare the demons away that came with night terrors and memories of her dead sister. He had helped her forget, had taken care of her in his own, particular way. Now it was his turn to forget, and her turn to guide him through the darkness.

"But you're not gonna get me to a bar to get drunk, are you?"

She cocked her head aside and smirked.

"Well, at first I thought about showing you my boobs." She smirked sarcastically. "But I thought that would make things awkward between us, so the only alternative is getting you drunk."

He huffed out a laugh as the elevator doors closed.

"Thanks for coming when you know I actually don't want to see anyone."

"It's alright." Helena chuckled. "Guys don't know how to get over such a thing. Hell, people don't know how to handle these things. I should know." Her gaze became unfocused but quickly came back to the here and now.

The doors slid open again. Leon started walking to the right, where he had left his car the last time he'd had time to think clearly where he was going and when he was coming back before getting onto a plane, before everything went to hell. Helena held him back and pulled him to the opposite side of the lot.

"I parked ov-"

"They took it. They took your car." There was the almond look again. "They want you to give your apartment back as well."

He grimaced.  _His car_  and  _his apartment_  were empty, meaningless things. He had nothing again. As an agent he had enjoyed all the special treatments.  _No troubles except your missions_. He needed a car? He got one. He needed a place to live? He got one. It wasn't big or comfy or close or up to snuff? He got another one. Now that he wasn't an agent any more, it was all gone. He sighed. He tried to protest and he knew it didn't make sense. This wasn't Helena's fault; it was his own and he was lucky they weren't making his life any more difficult beyond taking their own belongings away from him.

"I see. Is it empty already?"

The woman shook her head. Her hand remained on his wrist, holding tight, comforting him. And she wouldn't let go.

"They just took the car because they needed it." A sarcastic smirk crawled up her face. "Hunnigan says most of their car fleet has been wrecked by their best agent."

He smirked. That was him; their best agent and one of the founding members of the D.S.O. He felt his heart ache as his mind flipped back to the good times of the division, founded and led by Benford with so much passion. Hunnigan and the F.O.S. were doing a very impressive job as usual, taking control of everything perfectly, but work wasn't the same anymore since Adam's death.

His look hit the ground. So, he was a homeless now. He huffed. It wasn't like he'd have to live on the streets. As long as they didn't block his bank account he could afford two or three nice houses anywhere around the globe, but the idea of getting home had been the last good thing he had been holding on to. Anything could have turned into a home when Claire was around. Now that she wasn't here, there was only one place that was called home, and he had to give it back to its true owners. He was truly homeless and alone. He sighed. And then they came. Helena's arms came and crawled around his torso, pulling him into her; tight, warm, inviting. He pushed his hands up her back and buried his face in her hair - and there they stood. The lost man with nothing left and the fractured woman with nothing to gain. After all they had been through together, she urged him to open his hard shell and let the soft aching core seep out. She promised to catch it. She would always catch it, even if it ended up at the bottom of a Scotch glass.


	13. The almost

_She had been crying again. Every time she closed her eyes to find some rest, the nightmares started. The dark circles under her eyes were silent witnesses to her lack of sleep and gave her pale face a touch of lingering darkness. She had almost died of sadness._

_But now she was laughing. Her full-throated voice sounded through the night like lightning and thunder and she threw her head back and laughed out loud every time the bullet missed its target._

" _Oh my God," she said after recovering her breath. "I don't understand this. I usually do better." She turned and spotted the target to the left of her own and the three holes through the head - perfect shots. "What's your secret Kennedy?"_

_Leon rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought._

" _It's not the bullet that seeks the target, it's the target that attracts the bullet." Leon shouted and burst into laughter. "That's what one of my supervisors in the academy used to say. Half a year later he attracted a bullet himself."_

_It wasn't something anyone should ever laugh at, but Helena laughed like she had never laughed before._

_Six weeks had passed since Tall Oaks and Deborah's death and she had barely slept since then. She'd been absolved by the Government for her treason and for helping Derek Simmons in his attack; but what she hadn't been granted was peace of mind. She had agreed to see the therapist the Government had offered her, but what she really needed was a friend. And so, one hot night in August, she called the only one she had trusted during the days they had been chasing Simmons, when the rest of the world had been against her. She had called Leon Kennedy._

" _You had the same amount as I had." She giggled as she pulled her ear protection off her head. "How, Leon?"_

_He hadn't had any better idea than getting her drunk to make her forget. It had worked to help Claire get over her dead ex-boyfriend Nivans as well. But since he and Claire had ended up with their tongues and other body parts stuck into one another, this time, he preferred not getting hammered himself, so for every shot of Tequila he had ordered for Helena, he had one of apple juice. Afterwards, he had taken her to the shooting range for a round of nightly drunk shooting and it turned out to be the best idea he could have had._

" _This is nothing," he laughed. "Regarding my training, I should be able to shoot B.O.W.s while I do acrobatic stunts on a motorbike, even with the worst hangover in my life." Leon said proudly, hoping that he'd never have to prove those skills, and looked at her wide grin. Helena shook her head in disbelief._

" _You are something, Leon Kennedy." She giggled. "Thank you for coming."_

_He nodded at her and smiled. Helena was a good girl; a little too hot headed maybe, and with that irritated expression on her face; but a good girl nonetheless._

" _Now, tell me, Leon-" Her prying look bore into him. "Have you seen your friend again?"_

Friend _._

_He knew she was talking about Ada, but something inside of him couldn't avoid thinking of Claire. They had agreed they were 'fine' after their night together, but he still felt the regret in his bones every time he thought about her. And he thought about her more than ever now. He looked down and shook his head._

" _No, I have been busy," he said as if his meetings with the spy depended on him and his work schedule. Helena furrowed a brow._

" _You still have her mirror?"_

_He did. He always kept it in his pocket. One could never know when he was gonna run into Ada Wong._

_He sighed and laughed, without responding, turning away to leave the range. Helena smirked at him. She had sensed from the very beginning that Ada wasn't just a friend to Leon. She had also sensed that he didn't fancy talking about feelings or sex for that matter._

" _You don't want to talk about it, do you?"_

_He turned back to her and smirked, shaking his head no._

" _We are here for you." He pointed at her and then, in all her drunkenness, the sad girl said the words. Those too honest, too real words that everybody seemed to keep on the tip of their tongues, and only liquor had the power to loosen them. The ugly truth that everyone knew and no one had the guts to say._

" _She's not good for you, Leon." But drunk Helena was brave enough to say it. He turned to her to see how serious she was about her statement and, oh, she was dead serious. "I'm not saying she would betray you; or that she's a bad person. But the things she's done for money... eventually she'll have to make a choice and I don't think you'll be the highest bidder." She looked at him._

" _And what is good for me?" He lifted a brow and smirked expectantly, getting a sarcastic glance in response._

" _You deserve someone who cares, a nice woman who doesn't leave you bleeding once she gets what she wants." Helena stared at him. "Someone you wouldn't want to keep in the shadows, someone you will be proud to introduce as your wife." She laughed. "And stop giving me that teasing look, you flirtatious bastard, I'm not talking about me."_

_Someone to introduce as his wife. What a dumb idea. They smirked at each other and Leon laid his arm around Helena's shoulder._

_As if he was ever going to get married._

* * *

 

**-XII-**

**The Almost**

Helena unknowingly tapped her fingers to the beat of Bon Jovi's  _It's my life_  and it made Leon wonder if she'd even been born when that song had come out. The whole bar they sat in felt like a blast from the past that no one wanted or asked for. He looked down into his glass and shrugged at his reflection on the already foamless beer. Whatever. B.O.W.s and weapons were the only subject he had always been completely updated about. How would he know what a modern bar looked or sounded like?

"I'm sorry I couldn't come to the funeral this morning." Helena suddenly turned to him and took a sip of her third beer. "But there was that meeting."

"Don't worry, I know how that works." Leon didn't even look up from his glass to answer. "Claire knew how much you appreciated her."

"After all those stories you told me about her, how could I not appreciate her?" A sad smile appeared on her face. "Your wife was really something."

"Yeah, she really was." Leon looked up and he met her gaze. Helena smiled at him, a warm smile.

"Maybe you should ask for your job back? I'm sure that would help take your mind off things, give your something else to focus on." She asked. "Ingrid could help you with that."

_Ingrid?_

Leon shrugged.

"Not necessary. The President himself told me to feel free to come back whenever I wanted."

She ripped her eyes wide open he feared her eyeballs would pop out. He'd never seen her beautiful brown eyes that close. If it hadn't made her look like a lunatic, he'd recommended her do it more often.

"So, you don't want to come back?"

He rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

"No."

She smirked and narrowed her eyes at him.

"That means that you're either doing much better or much worse than I thought you were." She emptied her glass and put it back onto the table so hard the whole surface shook. "So, what now? Shooting range?"

He was almost going to accept her offer when Helena's phone started ringing.

"Oh, shit." She answered. "Ingrid!"

Leon's eyes narrowed. _Really? Ingrid?_

Helena pushed her finger into her left ear to hear better. Not an easy task when Bon Jovi is singing he just wanted to live while he was alive at the loudest the stereo system could go in this dive.

"Alright, I'm coming." She hung up and gave Leon an apologizing glance. "I have to go. They want me in an emergency meeting"

He nodded. It was alright. Helena still had a job to do. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise when he saw a set of keys glide over the surface. "Take these. I have another set. I hope to find you in my apartment when I come back."

"Helena, I-" He tried to protest.

"Leon," she pleaded. "Don't act like this is an indecent offer. I'm your friend. Accept help just once in your life, please." She shook her head. "I don't want you to be alone right now." With those words she waved to the waitress behind the counter, one half of the cute lesbian couple, and made her understand to look after him. He felt like a five-year old whose mother left him in the kindergarten for the first time. That was until he had a closer look at the waitress. She didn't quite look like a kindergarten teacher. Unless that tattoo of a naked busty woman riding a snake was supposed to show them anything about zoology, of course. He looked back into his glass. It was still full. Helena had taken him out with the best intentions, but without knowing that he hadn't tasted alcohol for nearly two years. He had stopped drinking for himself, of course. He felt better with his senses fully working. But the main reason why he had done it was Claire. Not because she had asked him to stop. She'd been making fun of his hypothetical drinking problems since heir friendship started, but she knew it had never been dangerous until his breakdown in Colorado. He had stopped drinking because she had just erased the need to drink and to forget. Next to Claire, he didn't need to forget anymore; didn't want to forget. He wanted to remember. But now, Claire was gone and a lot of painful happenings and memories came. And he somehow felt the need to forget again. He lifted his glass. One single sip wouldn't do any harm, would it?

"Hey, you!" He looked up. Great, the frightening waitress was calling. "Yes, you! Handsome blonde lonely man."

Yeah, that had to be him. Not only because he was the only one who matched the description, but also the only customer in the bar. He grabbed his beer and stood up to move slowly to the counter. He sat down and looked at her.

"Yeah?"

" _Elenita_  wants me to watch over you." She smirked. "Helena's friends are my friends too, so please order whatever you want. It's on me. Well, it's on her."

Leon smirked. The black-haired, shameless lady spoke with a strong Latin accent. He hadn't noticed the beautiful tan of her skin until he'd sat closer to her.

"That's very nice of you," he pushed out the words bathed in sarcasm.

"Don't you like beer?" She asked, pointing at the full glass. "I thought men like beer."

Leon chuckled. He wasn't going to tell her, but she looked like she had no fucking idea what men liked.

"Oh, I like beer. Watch me!" He smiled maliciously and gulped down the whole content in less than five seconds, leaving the glass on the counter with a loud clunk afterwards. It was warm, closer to boiling tea than to a cold beer; it smelled like feet and tasted even worse, but it felt bubbly and still refreshing. Also, the waitress was happy by his action as she smiled at him.

"You want something stronger?" Before Leon could reply she had already placed a glass onto the counter and was happily pouring Scotch into it. A pretty expensive Scotch. So expensive, he expected diamonds to fall out of the bottle at any time.

"That's enough, thanks." He stopped her. She smirked widely as she put the bottle back onto the shelf. Cocked her head and looked at him as he smelled the liquid. That was something different. That was gold on the rocks. He took a sip.

"It's a good one, isn't it?" She gave him a side smirk as she leaned onto the counter. Her look made him uncomfortable but he faced it head on like a man.

"It is." He nodded.

"So, what is it you're trying to get over? Has your girlfriend left you?" Her eyes darted to him as he looked up. "Or your boyfriend?" His eyes narrowed into a questioning gaze. "No. Girlfriend. The girlfriend."

He rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh.

"Close enough."

"Aaah, I knew it." She exhaled and grabbed an empty glass and a bottle of Tequila and poured the brown liquid from one into the other. "Don't run after her. Whatever you did or whatever she did. If it's over, it's over."

Leon couldn't hold back a regretful smirk.

"It's definitely over, yes." He nodded and clinked his glass together with the young waitress and drank. The Scotch burnt going down his throat nicely and the cool touch of the ice eased it instants after.

"What's your name, handsome?" The tattooed woman turned around to the shelf and searched for a new bottle.

"Leon." He sighed. He wasn't in the mood for small talk, but he'd rather piss off a B.O.W. than the noisy lady in front of him, so he decided to have a drink and a chat with her. She seemed nice as long as she was quiet. She was short with too many curves in all the wrong places, with short cropped hair and a nose ring. But she had pretty eyes, round lips and a whole bunch of tattoos covering her skin. And most importantly, she knew good liquor and she knew how to keep his glass full.

"A pretty name for a pretty face. Ah, there you are!" The girl climbed up onto the counter behind her, pushing her round ass almost into Leon's face, to reach one of the bottles on the highest spot of the shelf, smiling proudly as she looked at it like it was some sort of trophy. "I'm Raquel, but everybody calls me Kit."

He arched a brow.

"Kit?"

She smirked nastily as she climbed down.

"It's short for Kitty." When she bent over the counter and he could almost see her breasts fall out of her bra. She approached her lips to his ear. "Because I lick pussies like a pro." She leaned back and smirked at him. "But my girlfriend wouldn't let anyone call me  _Pussy_. So, they call me Kit."

He didn't know if it was the funny face she made or the lustful tone in her voice, but something about Kit licking pussies caused him to blow out a sharp laugh.

"I'd ask you to teach me, but it would be violent."

She grinned.

"Oh, I can teach you." She gave him a naughty smirk. "This way no woman is ever gonna run from you again." He tried to counter; she was faster. "I know you guys think that it's just licking over a spot. But it's not that easy, my friend." She lifted a finger. "Especially when most of you fail to find that spot."

He frowned and shrugged. The conversation was getting absurd, but he enjoyed that noisy girl's company.

"Oh God."

She leaned over the counter again.

"Do you even know where the clit is? And the G-spot?"

He couldn't hold back a smirk. Helena had weird friends.

"Will there be a practical exam?"

They held gazes for a while, until she frowned in disgust and he laughed. He laughed for the first time in a very, very long time. He laughed as if nothing bad had ever happened to him; as if he hadn't been in Raccoon City; hadn't been forced to work for the Government; as if he hadn't met, loved and lost Claire Redfield. His Claire. And there it was again: the thought of her. Her memory sat on his lap, blew away his laughter and urged him to take another sip from his Scotch. Kit noticed.

"Oh, that looks bad." She looked at him and smiled. He shrugged again.

"I'm alright." He nodded as he buried his nose in the glass. She kept staring.

"You know, I come across a lot of people here."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Leon replied and looked around at the  _lot of_ other customers in the empty bar.

She grimaced.

"My bar is usually full, okay? And I meet hundreds of people," she said feigning offense. Then, she smiled again. "I can see that you're a good man. And whatever happened to you, it's not what you deserved."

Not what he deserved. Chris wouldn't agree. Chris would think he got exactly what he always called for and Claire was just the unlucky one who had been in his way. Leon laughed sharply.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said and turned to the entrance. A girl in her late twenties came in, holding a wet umbrella and complaining loudly about the weather as she stepped behind the counter. Leon observed her. She was cute, had long blonde locks and bright blue eyes. Unlike Raquel's, her curves were right where they were supposed to be and how they were supposed to be, he observed when she took her coat off. She was tall, well-shaped and simply beautiful, and her smile was contagious.

"It's raining," she said as she removed her scarf and threw it elegantly onto the counter, from where it simply slipped off and fell to the ground on Leon's side. "Don't go out there."

Leon got up and picked the scarf from the floor. It was silken, blue and white, with tiny sparkles of yellow on it. He reached his hand out and gave it back to her.

"Here."

"Thank you." She smiled warmly and turned back to Raquel. "Here are the lemons."

"You've come back right on time, love," Raquel said and kissed the girl before placing three shot glasses onto the counter. So, the blonde was the other half of the couple. "I was about to open our special heartache-easing Tequila for our friend here." She smiled widely.

"What happened to you?" The blonde girl turned to him and gave him an innocent look.

He took a deep breath.

"My-"

"His girlfriend left him," Raquel was so kind to answer for him. He could just smile at the cute girl. She looked like she really tried to pity him. He didn't want to bother her with bigger tragedies so he decided to stick to Raquel's story. He nodded once.

"I'm sorry," her lips widened into a sincere smile. "But if there's anyone in the world who can cheer you up, it's Kit."

Kit had, in the meantime, filled the three shot glasses with Tequila and had cut a lemon into generous slices. She sprinkled some salt from a shaker onto her hand and handed it to Leon.

"This one's on me, I promise!" She smirked widely. He took the shaker and licked over the small triangle of skin between his thumb and index finger, covering it with salt afterwards.

The blonde girl took one of the lemon slices between two fingers and scratched concentratedly over the citrus fruit to remove a pip. Leon stared at the shot glass. Tequila. Tequila had been what had got him and Claire to bed together for the first time after fifteen years of friendship. It hadn't been really a bed but a couch, but it couldn't have been of less importance. It had been quick and hot and a bit clumsy and-Geezus, how scared he had been after that. Scared of losing his best friend. He sighed. Back then he hadn't lost her. Things had become pretty awkward between them but Claire had still been his friend and had come running whenever he'd needed her. Unlike now. Now, he had lost her for real, for good, and it hurt so much.

He grabbed the shot, licked the salt and threw his head back along with the gulp of Tequila. The blonde girl offered him a lemon as she sipped carefully on her shot glass.

"Goddamnit that shit is fucking great!" Kit yelped and walked into the small room behind the counter. The blonde girl stared amused, her glass was still half-full.

"She talks like she was a Viking," she said giggling and turned to Leon. "She often seems rude but she is the loveliest girl I've ever known."

Leon smirked.

"I believe you."

"You know, it's not comparable to your sorrow," she whispered. "But she has gone through a lot of pain in the past, too." The blonde girl sighed. "She lost her parents two years ago. Her mother died of cancer, her father shortly after in a car crash. Horrible."

Leon chuckled slightly, in regret. She couldn't understand how similar his own case was to Kit's.

"That must have been very hard for her."

"It was," the blonde girl said. "We had just started dating and it was a difficult test for our relationship. But she made it through, we made it through." She smiled. She had a beautiful smile. "She has been working all this time. You know, we bought a cabin in Canada. It was her dad's dream and now it's ours. It needs a lot of work and it's not really ready to move in yet so, we keep working. We run this bar and sleep here, too, because we can't afford paying two rents if we want to save money for our cabin." She sighed. "I work as a graphic designer in the morning. It's a lousy job, but it's the only thing I'm good at."

Leon stared at her.

"I'm sure there are a lot of things you are good at. You just haven't discovered them yet."

"Yeah, maybe." She stretched her hand out. "I'm Rachel."

Leon frowned at her.

"Rachel." He pointed at the kitchen. "And Raquel?"

The girl giggled.

"Yes. That's why everybody calls her  _Kit_."

Leon arched a brow and smirked.

"Really? I thought everybody called her Kit because-"

"Oh, she told you that pussy story, didn't she?" She giggled and lifted her hand. "I hope she didn't scare you."

He smiled at her. It was unnatural to hear strangers talk so openly about their lives, but the two girls were nice and open-minded. He finally grabbed her hand and shook it, trying not to break it.

"I'm Leon."

Kit came back from the kitchen

"Isn't he the most handsome man you've ever seen, love?" She stood in front of him and smirked at him challengingly. "What? I'm not into men, but I can still tell the ugly boys from the handsome ones."

He smirked. That chick was scary but anyone who gave him top shelf Tequila was awesome. Her girlfriend, Rachel, was cute and pretty. One of those lesbians who guys would cry over after masturbating to the thought of them. The girl suddenly smirked amusedly and turned around.

"It won't be difficult to find him a date tonight."

Kit pursed her lips.

"Where? Outside? I think it's impossible to find anybody outside in that rain."

Leon just watched them doubtfully. Even if he had wanted a date that night, he wouldn't have let two lesbians find him one.

"Well, maybe he will have to spend the night with us two, then." Rachel giggled amusedly and Kit laughed her lungs out as Leon gave them a sarcastic glance.

"Ladies, you kinda scare me."

And they laughed.

"Don't worry handsome. We would never touch you." Kit shook her head in disgust as she spoke.

"Never." Rachel affirmed and served them another round of shots. "Not even after hundreds of these."

* * *

 

Working at night was exhausting. She had turned the brightness on her tablet display to a minimum so nobody would see the light in her room. But even so, it hurt her eyes more than she'd like to admit.

_Alex, the light hurts. We should sleep and rest._

"We can't. I'm in contact with someone who can sell us the equipment we need." She hammered her fingers onto the tablet and grinned. "And it's not even far from here."

_People sell those capsules?_

"Nowhere accessible for normal users," Alex whispered. "But the web offers some possibilities you'd never imagine if you're willing to dig for them. We have to be quick, we don't have much time left."

_And we still have to get Leon. I actually feared you would attack him at the graveyard._

"That would have been mindless," she hissed. "I just need him to trust me so it will be easier to sedate him when the time has come. But you're right. Kennedy is another reason to hurry. He's been here for a very long time now, but I expect him to get back to Washington someday." She shook her head. "When that happens, we need him under our control, a loyal dog."

Alex scrolled through the messages she had exchanged with the seller. The latest message had some pictures attached and came with bad news.

_What? Now he can't get it to us before Christmas?_

Alex grimaced.

"Maybe someone wants to use it first," she whispered and opened one of the pictures. "Natalia. This guy is not the original seller."

* * *

 

A strange feeling of comfort invaded his chest as he pushed open the door to what would soon stop being his apartment. As if those two lesbians had cut him open and erased the sting of self-pity and guilt that Chris had pushed into him. Maybe it was just the alcohol. Who knew or cared at this point.

At some point that night, he feared Kit and Rachel were planning on doing horrible things to him. But it turned out they behaved, somehow. They had filled him up with the finest Scotch they had in the bar, Rachel had made sandwiches for all of them when she couldn't even stand any more booze and they had let him leave without objections when he had decided to go after Kit's impromptu dance on the counter.

He couldn't recall the last time he had been so fucking drunk. In Colorado, probably, though he had been much more used to drinking back then. Now, he was weak. Marriage had made him weak. No, marriage had made him happy. He grimaced.

He emptied his pockets and left a whole bunch of small objects on the table. His look fell onto his phone, the phone he would have to hand in along with the keys to his apartment. He slid his finger over the screen and opened the voicemail menu, considering if he was ready. He had never listened to Claire's last message to him. But if he was going to lose the device, maybe it was time. He took a deep breath, hit the play button and pressed the phone to his ear as he dropped onto the next chair.

 _Leon, it's me._  A sigh.  _Look, I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I might have been a little too stubborn._ She giggled and it tore him apart.  _I'm not trying to make any decision without you, but-_ She sighed again.  _Leon, you can't imagine how much I want to have this child. Not only because I could finally cradle my own baby, but also because-_  She breathed.  _I've seen your look every time you hold Summer in your arms. You would make such a fantastic father, and nothing would make me happier to see a little blonde boy running around the house._ She sighed again.  _And it just saddens me to know that I can't be the one who gives you that._ Another sigh.  _I love you, Leon. Please call me back when you hear this._

His breathing became shallow and he clenched his fist, but he didn't notice. He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth, but he wasn't aware of anything. He lowered his head and closed his eyes and squeezed them shut as if they could ease the pain in his throat. He felt the pain, though. Deep in the protective darkness of his old apartment, on the chair where Claire had sat the last time she'd been there, the pain in his throat caused him to relax. He put down his guard, and discarded his armor. His heart, soul and everything he was suddenly relaxed. He didn't try to hide his sadness anymore. His hands gave up fighting and he just hit the surface of the table and transferred all the pain and tension into it. His fingers stopped resisting and scratched over the surface, digging as deep as he could. Also his eyes finally opened and let tears flow.

He cried.

He cried and he didn't give a damn. He cried and stood up to push the vase on the table away. It crashed onto the floor and shattered into a million pieces. He had always hated it. He cried and walked over to the sideboard where all those empty decorative things were placed. They had come with the apartment and he had never touched or really contemplated them. He cried and screamed in pain as he slid his arm over the surface and just threw it all down. Lifeless, emotionless stuff. He had never needed it. He cried and kick jumped against the huge armchair, sending it flying through the room. ‘ _Nice kick,’_ Leon sarcastically thought as he landed on his shoulder. He cried out in pain and kept crying as he got to his feet. He raged as his hands grabbed the TV frame and pulled it out of its wall mounts, ripping apart cables and connectors. Whatever. He didn't watch TV anymore. It hit the floor as well and made a pretty, cracking sound. It felt good. He cried as he looked at the mess that had once been his living room and what was the government's now. He sank to his knees and hid his face in his hands and screamed in anger and hatred at everything that wasn't right in his world.

The man of ice cried for his dead wife. After losing her body and punching her brother's face, it was all he could do for her now. And neither her nor her stupid brother were there to watch him fall to pieces.

However, someone else was there. He stopped sobbing and combed his hair out of his face as he felt the presence. He breathed shallowly and gasped for air as he wiped his tears away and stood up again.

His face contorted in disgust, "What do you want?"

 


	14. The Once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_I don't regret anything_ **

_She looked extremely happy when she entered the tiny pub. A wide smile dressed her lips and her red hair fell loose over her shoulders. Claire was dressed in casual blue jeans and a red jacket. Perfect for her meeting with Leon, who was, as usual, already waiting for her._

_"Hey there," she greeted him with a tight hug and took a seat next to him at the counter. "How are you?"_

_"I'm alright. But you owe me an explanation sweetheart," he said narrowing his eyes as he shoved the bowl with onion rings over to his friend. "Why did you say I saved your night? I'm not holding you back from an unwanted date, am I?"_

_She laughed loudly._

_"Oh, no." Claire grabbed an onion ring and bit it. "I just needed a place to go because I couldn't stay home."_

_"Because your apartment is being fumigated? I thought you were staying at your boss' place." Leon rolled his eyes as he said that. She grimaced sarcastically._

_"It's not my boss' place; it's a vacation house he owns. And you saved me because I couldn't stay in said house tonight." She said, already chewing another onion ring. "Because I want Jill to stay with Chris after their date."_

_Her happy look amused him._

_"Your brother asked her out already? I thought she was just coming back from rehab." Leon smirked. "Was he so desperate?" Claire narrowed her eyes and tried to kill him with her look._

_"Just for your information, Mr. Kennedy. It was her who asked him out." She leaned onto the counter and smiled like a school girl in love. "She's totally into him."_

_And Leon lifted a brow._

_"Yeah, she has pretty bad taste." He received Claire's punch in the arm as soon as he spoke. "Alright, I'm sorry. I take it back."_

_They smirked at each other until Claire found the right words._

_"I'm so happy for them. Aren't they lucky to be in love with each other? They're best friends."_

_Leon grimaced._

_"You talk as if that was a good thing."_

_She blinked at him._

_"Isn't it?"_

_"Of course not," he said and shook his head. "Think about it. Best friends, like you and I for example, are there for each other when things turn to shit. Who is gonna be there for them when their relationship turns to shit?" Leon left the question floating between them. Claire didn't say anything. Having once believed to be in love with him, she felt slightly offended by his comment. Leon Kennedy was a jerk who didn't believe that love and friendship were compatible. But what had she expected? He was also the man in love with Ada Wong, a spy, a traitor. Claire couldn't hold back a sad smirk as she laid her arm around his shoulders. She knew Chris and Jill were mature enough to keep being friends even if they ever broke up._

_And herself? She would be there for Leon Kennedy, whose life was so full of shit that he totally needed a best friend like her in it to make it alright in the end_.

* * *

 

**\- XIII -**

**The Once**

"What do you want, Ada?" Leon spoke to her without even looking into her direction. He didn't need to. She had always come silently into his hotel rooms. The first time he'd been surprised, shocked even. The second time he had already memorized her scent, the fragrance on her skin, the sound of her moves; no matter if she walked over tiles or carpet. He always knew when Ada Wong was close. "I never thought you'd actually visit me at my place instead of a hotel room."

A challenging smile popped onto her lips.

"As far as I know, it won't be your place much longer." She walked out of the shadows and into his direction, sliding her fingers elegantly over the surface of the table. She was in a tight red neckholder dress that reached down to her knees. "So I thought it would be a good idea to take the chance and see how you live when you're home."

He huffed out a laugh.

"Are you trying to make a fool out of me?" And he turned around and stared into her face. "Come clean. Why are you here?"

She moved toward him silently, like a cat. When she stood in front of him her hands glided up over his chest and collarbone to stay on his neck. She smiled slightly.

"I actually came to congratulate you on your wedding, but I guess I have to give you my condolences now." She breathed deeply as she thumbed over his cheek. "I'm very sorry for your loss.”

Leon just frowned at her.

"You’re sorry?” He shook his head and blew out a sarcastic breath. "Since when do you feel sorry for anything or anyone?" He laid his hands on hers and removed them from his neck and face. "I don't need your pity."

He walked to the window and looked into the night.

She smiled softly and went after him, moving around him until she faced him again; until she was so close her breasts almost touched his chest. She knew he would enjoy the touch. Leon was just a man, and men were stupidly thinking with their dicks more than with their brains. She knew he had always wanted her and neither Claire Redfield nor any other woman on Earth had been able to make him stop longing for her. Ada gave him a seductive smile as she slid her hand up to his neck again.

"No pity, Leon." On her high heels, it was easy to bring her lips close to his as she whispered. "I'm here to take care of you."

And so, she pressed her lips onto his and became the second woman that night to kiss him. What the fuck was wrong with these women? Had he been sending them signs to make them think they should just run after him? Had he given them permission without knowing? Was someone in pain and loneliness that irresistible? No matter how hard he tried to fight against it, Leon moaned a little as Ada's hand travelled down his body and grabbed his dick through his pants. And he felt himself grow under the touch of her fingers. That traitorous body of his wanted her; it had always been the weakest part of him and it was pulling her closer now as their lips touched. Ada chuckled softly, broke the kiss and took his hand to pull him towards the hall. It was supposed to be the first time she was in his apartment, but she knew exactly where she was heading. She knew where she wanted to take him. And he wouldn't let her. This was too much. He wouldn't let her get him. He wouldn't do it. No matter how hard she tried, he wouldn't touch her. This ...thing they had was long since over. He just wouldn't put his hands on her. No matter what had been between them, he wouldn't sleep with her tonight.

Not in the bedroom.

He pulled her back and grabbed her throat, lifting her lips up to his again, and drank from her. He kissed her mouth so violently it left her breathless. He would give her what she wanted; what she had come for. Her hands tried to reach his belt but Leon held her back. His right hand still held her throat while his left undid the knot on her neck and ripped down her dress, exposing her bare breasts. He licked over her lips.

"You're so desperate you even came without a bra on?" His tongue traced a line from her lips to her earlobe.

How sweet. He tried to offend her in his own, innocent way. Ada turned her mouth to him again and bit his lip as he kneaded her breast with one hand. Now Leon let her stroke him again through his pants. The touch of his rock-hard parts in her hands made her chuckle against his lips and he didn't like it. He hated her and himself for it; for letting her control him; for letting her even try. Leon bit her neck as he pushed her against the sideboard, her hands grabbing the surface to avoid to fall backwards onto it. Ada opened her eyes, gasping. His look lingered all over her. He had always been gentle and loving when they had been together. But nothing was left of the boy who had once loved her so desperately. He pressed his mouth onto hers again. It wasn't soft, nor sweet; it was hungry and desperate and he groaned like an animal as he bit her, thirsty for her blood.

An unsoft nudge turned her around and smashed her smooth body onto the sideboard again, face against the wall. It hurt her. He stood behind her, rubbing his erection against her thighs as he bit her neck. His hands reached for her skirt and pulled it up. Ada tried to resist. Leon had never treated her like this; like she was just a cheap hooker. He had always worshipped her; had received her with the joy of a child opening a birthday gift. What he was doing now was the complete opposite of gentle. He pushed her face harder against the wall the moment she tried to resist. He grabbed her both wrists and held them over her head, immobilizing her. He leaned over her struggling body.

"Shhhh," he whispered into her ear, tickling her with his breath and killing her with it. "Isn't this what you wanted, Ada? Isn't it what you came for?" One of his hands was enough to hold her both wrists while the other pulled on her tiny black panties, ripping them apart. So much for her expensive designer lingerie. She made a sound of surprise as he pushed a finger into her. "Oh, you like that, don't you? Look how wet you are." His voice sounded hoarse and evil, and he bit her earlobe as another finger found its way into her heat. "Yes, Ada. I will let you take care of me." Leon unzipped his pants, stealing her breath with the sound, and just let them fall to the floor, not bothering stepping out of them. He didn't even bother removing his boxers this time. He just pulled out his erection and whispered into her ears again. "But we'll do this my way."

She didn't complain. She wanted him to fuck her again and though she felt dirty and used, it also aroused her. Leon spanked her ass playfully and reached for the upper drawer of the sideboard, searching for a condom. He ripped the wrapper open and rolled the latex over his length with just one free hand. Ada shivered in expectation as he rubbed his tip against her entrance. Leon grabbed her hips and pushed himself into her boiling, wet hole.

She had almost forgotten how big he was. A deep moan left her throat as he thrust into her. He fucked her like he wanted to cut her open, kill her and eventually come all over her. And it hurt her; not physically. Physically, it was heaven; there was only pleasure and that tickling shiver running through her body. He hurt her because there wasn't any love inside of him for her. He just fucked her and didn't love her.

He didn't love her. It wasn't a big revelation, but it was sad to know.

He dropped against her back and kept moving inside of her as he grabbed her breast and bit her shoulder, ripping a short scream from her throat. It felt good to be inside of her – of someone. It had been three very long months and God knew he needed a good fuck to get rid of all the shit he had been through. He had to admit, Ada felt better than he'd expected; better than he remembered. She wasn't Claire; she would never be Claire. Claire had been unique. Claire had begun where Ada had abandoned for long. But Claire wasn't there anymore.

Ada cried under him as she shook, feet dangling off the sideboard like numb limbs as her inners tightened around him. She came screaming his name, blowing her breath against the cold wall. Her short hair fell over her face. Leon thrust into her once more before releasing himself.

He panted; he gasped; he pulled his dick out of her and his pants up again as he looked around at the mess he had made. If it had been Claire, he would have kissed her; would have taken her to the bed or into the shower, depending on how dirty their games would have gotten. If it had been Claire, he would have loved her. But she wasn't Claire.

And so, he left her hanging against that sideboard, gasping his name, and walked into the bedroom.

He'd have one hell of a hangover the next day.

* * *

 

Amanda received her with the widest, most sincere smile she had ever given her, which could only mean that the B.S.A.A. secretary was already aware that Chris and she had broken up and that she could now fuck him without regrets. That's why Jill smiled back at her victoriously as she announced that she was going to visit Captain Redfield in his office.

"He hasn't wanted to see anyone this morning," Amanda said as she noted down Jill's visit. The blonde felt like a common visitor as she signed the form and received a visitor badge that only allowed her access to the office, since her own lay somewhere between baby clothes and toys at home. What a hard fall for a founding member. Before she walked into the hallway with little Summer in her arms, Amanda handed her some letters and small packages for Chris.

"If you could give him these, you'd do me a favor. I usually don't give his mail to any other person, but you're still a Redfield, aren't you?" Jill ignored the ridiculing tone in her voice and walked towards Chris' office.

She found him sitting at the desk. He looked up and smiled at her sadly as when she came in. She handed him Summer, who patted his bearded face and giggled.

"Hello little Princess," he said as he rubbed his nose against the girl's cheek and made her laugh happily. Jill took a seat in front of him and smiled expectantly.

"I hope you're not mad I brought her," she said. "But you didn't have the chance to say goodbye to her yesterday, so I thought you might like to see her."

Chris nodded as he sat Summer onto his knee, bobbing it up and down as he held her both arms so she wouldn't fall. Jill watched him.

"How are you?" She finally asked and his gaze hit her head on.

"I could be better, but I'm alright," he said shrugging his shoulders. "What about you?" She nodded slightly and he smiled. "Do you want a coffee?"

"No, thank you." She smiled gesturing to the backpack she had left on the floor. "I just came to bring you clean clothes and-" She looked at him. "It might not be a good moment to talk about this but-"

"We should clarify how we want to go on now, shouldn't we?" Chris smirked shrugging. "Are we gonna get a divorce?"

Jill gave him a curious look and shook her head.

"I- I don't want to divorce you, Chris. Not like this. Not in a hurry." She swallowed. "I mean, not now." They looked at each other and chuckled.

"I don't want to divorce you either," Chris said finally. "I like being married to you, Jill, and it's not your fault that I was such a horrible husband."

Jill’s eyes opened widely in surprise.

"No, Chris. You weren't. I was a mess and-" She looked away shyly. "I never wanted to cause you so much pain, but I felt locked away and misunderstood."

They exchanged warm gazes.

"I'm so sorry we went this far, Jill. I wish I could turn back time and undo all this damage." He looked at Summer, who gave him a somewhat questioning gaze. "Not absolutely everything, love." He thumbed her nose. "I wouldn't trade you for anything. And I know your mommy wouldn't do that either."

Jill cocked her head to the right and stared at them. Chris was so good with kids. The man in front was exactly how she had always expected him to be as a father. She smiled.

"Why don't to take some days off and go on a trip with your daughter?" She smirked, hands lifted. "Only you two. I don't need to be around."

Chris’ mouth fell open in surprise, but he had to admit, that was a very nice offer. In the previous months, he had always wanted to see his daughter and spend some time with her, but the fear of arguing with Jill was stronger than his wish to be a father to little Summer. Spending some time with her was a good idea. But right now, he and Jill weren't fighting. There was no remorse, no hard feelings, so why not try.

"What if I want you to be around?"

She lowered her head and looked at him from below.

"We tried that, Chris."

He nodded.

"Yeah, we did. We tried to be a married couple." A shrug ran through his shoulders. "Maybe we weren't as good at it as we wished. But you're still my best friend, Jill. As friends we are unstoppable. We can raise this little Princess here as best friends and she will become a superhero."

She laughed out loud. She had always believed that they made one hell of a team and as she thought of how little Summer would someday save the world, Jill noticed how much she missed Chris.

"Does that mean you're coming home?" Her doubtful, expectant look hit him. He couldn't hold back a smile.

"Let me first apologize to Leon," he said smirking. "So it won't be too awkward when I ask him to go."

"You can apologize to him, but there's no need to ask him to leave." Jill said shrugging sadly.

"Oh, so you want me to sleep on the couch?" He laughed as Summer grabbed his nose and pulled on it. "Or in the nursery with Summer?"

Jill shook her head and laughed.

"No. What I mean is that Leon is gone already." Chris looked up in surprise. "He left last night after your fight. Sherry took a flight to Washington this morning. Only Jake is still around."

"I see." Chris nodded and stroked over Summer's red hair. "Jill, I guess we'll be flatmates from now on."

* * *

 

Leon woke with the need to throw up, blinking against the sunlight that shone through the window directly into his eyes. Covering his face with one hand, he slowly got up, the whole room spinning around him. His memory tasted like Scotch and felt like failure. When he finally managed to lift his upper body and shift his weight from his elbows to his hands, he found the naked woman lying on the other side of the bed.

"Oh, fuck," he hissed at Ada's wide smile.

"Is that a proper way to say good morning?" she whispered arching a brow and sliding a finger softly over his jaw. "You don't seem to have slept very well."

Leon grimaced as he rolled out of the bed and onto his feet. "You're in Claire's spot. Get out!" he said hoarsely as the surroundings started to spin. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What are you even doing here?"

Ada giggled. "Don't you remember the fun we had last night?" She sat up, allowing him a glance at her bare breasts as he opened his eyes again. He stood still.

"Oh, I remember more than I'd like to. What I mean is, what are you still doing here?" He rolled his eyes. "As far as I know, you're not the kind that stays overnight."

She crawled over the bed towards him. He watched her doubtfully as she got onto her knees on the mattress in front of him, embracing him softly and giving him a seductive look.

"Leon, I know you're not alright. You need to forget." Her hand travelled over his back and tried to pull him closer to bring her lips to his again. "I can help you forget. Last night was a good start." She blew her soft breath against his lips. He didn't move. "A little rougher than I like it usually, but I forgive you."

He grimaced in disbelief.

"You for-? What?" He tilted his head and shoved her hands away. "I don't want you to forgive me anything Ada. I don't want you to help me. I want you gone. I want you out of my bed and out of my life." She held him back as he turned away. "Get. The fuck. Out. Ada."

He walked into the bathroom and took off his jacket and shirt, throwing the clothes carelessly onto the floor. After stepping out of his pants and boxers, he got into the shower. The water came out steaming hot, but it still felt freshening against his numb skin. He closed his eyes and thought about the mess he had made, cursing himself for being so weak. The night after Claire's funeral he had slept with Ada Wong, the woman who had been torturing him for nearly two decades; who had been giving him just the right amount of attention to distract him from the life he had really needed. And he had been too naive, too young, or too stupid to see the games she had been playing.

He smelled like betrayal, lies and mistakes. To sum up, he smelled like Ada. Leon emptied the bottle of shower gel, hoping it would be enough to get her smell off his skin. He felt miserable and just wanted to punch himself in the face. At least he was suffering from a destructively throbbing headache, which was something he clearly deserved.

As soon as he finished the shower, he grabbed the towel from the holder and wrapped it around his waist. Stepping back into the bedroom, he was displeased to find Ada still in the room. She was dressed again, standing in front of the mirror and checking her makeup. Noticing his presence, she gave him a curious look through the mirror and turned.

And she saw him. She saw his pain and sorrow. Had she ever seen him so broken? He was only a shadow of his former self, just half the man he used to be, and she felt how he slowly pointed his rage at her. Alright. Rage wasn’t exactly the obedience he had showed her so often in the past, but it was better than absolute indifference.

"How did you know?" He gave her a hateful glance.

She lifted a brow and smirked at him. "Know what?"

"I know you're the one who sent me the coordinates, Ada. How did you know she was there?"

A regretful smile was all he got as an answer. Ada hadn't come with the intention to deny that she had been the one who had told him about Claire's whereabouts. Those past two months she hadn’t been able to find out if it had been a sudden attack of altruism or just the curiosity of seeing how many people would come running to save little Redfield. Now that she saw Leon and how much he suffered, she knew what she had done it for; who she had done it for. It was time to come clean.

"I found her ID in that warehouse while I investigated it." Ada swallowed.

"Why were you investigating?"

"That's none of your business." She narrowed her eyes.

"It is if your investigation killed my wife and unborn son," he hissed into her face before she could say anything else. It left her stunned.

Her heart started beating heavily. He looked at her with so much hatred. A son. How unexpected. She swallowed and took a deep breath along with some courage to face the truth. "So, Claire was pregnant."

Leon lifted a brow as he huffed out a laugh. "Why so surprised?" A ridiculing headshake followed. "We were married, Ada. What do you think we were doing? Now tell me what you know."

She smirked sadly. Claire was carrying Leon's child when Mr. Creepy had caught her. Ada swallowed. She shouldn't have given a damn about it, but something inside of her seemed to break when she heard about the pregnancy. She stared at Leon, who was still expecting an answer. He was so hurt, so broken, and it killed her to see him like that. He had always been something. The young, inexperienced cop who had tried to save or impress her in Raccoon City, failing miserably at both tasks, had turned into a wonderful man. And he had become even lovelier over the years. Stronger, better shaped, yes, even a little taller. A nice amount of self-confidence had done the rest. Leon Scott Kennedy sweated sex and lust and that had made her dare to taste him the fourth or fifth time they had met. It had been a wild night in a hotel room somewhere in South Africa and he had left her breathless.

Addictive.

Leon Kennedy was a drug that made her come running to him whenever she’d had the chance to. And she loved him. How could she not love him? They could have actually been more if he hadn’t asked for too much. _I love you_ , he had told her, and destroyed everything with it. What a fool. As if something like love would have ever been possible in their line of work. Although she had to admit that she would have wanted him by her side forever if it hadn't been for their both jobs. But since he was a government agent and she a world wanted spy, their little games had to be enough.

And they had been enough. They were thrilling, and thrill was exactly what she was always looking for. And it had been amazing until the day he had chosen Claire over her, because Claire meant stability, sex on demand and boredom. Fine, it was okay to want some boredom, some 'normality.' Leon was getting old after all and age always confused people. Ada was willing to wait for him to wake up and see that his love for Claire Redfield was only a cheap substitute for the love she couldn't give him. Now Claire was gone, and Ada had somehow expected him to receive her with open arms.

However, Leon was pushing her away. She studied his face as she thought about the previous night. It was meant to be a gift to him, a wish she granted him, but it had turned out to be something she desired much more than he did. It seemed like Claire hadn't been just a girlfriend to show around and a cunt to stick his dick into. 'Too bad,' she thought and sighed into his face. The battle was lost, but she wouldn’t be Ada Wong if she would lose the war.

"I think someone took Claire's body."

The sound of his clenching teeth sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes said what his lips couldn't. There was confusion; pure confusion mixed with a little hope. Leon blew his breath into her face as he sighed.

"What did you just say?" He tried to grab her, but Ada was faster. She jumped back and lifted a brow at him.

"Oh, oh, oh. Leon." She clicked her tongue chidingly and shook her head. "Trust me, you better calm down."

Leon breathed shallowly. Nobody except for the rescue team and themselves got out of that warehouse alive, but if Ada knew something, he needed her to speak. He put his hands down and took a deep breath.

"What do you know?"

She chuckled.

"It's a long story."

He stared deeply into her eyes. "I have time."

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Leon looked towards the hall and back at Ada, who took the chance and rushed towards the window.

"Ask Richardson," she said as she pulled out her hook shot and stepped onto the frame, blowing a kiss into Leon's direction. "Bill Richardson."

"The journalist who was accused of the attack on the President?" Leon hissed and tried to catch her. "That was your work, wasn't it? You bitch; I could have saved Claire if I hadn't been held in Washington because of that attack."

But Ada was long gone, disappearing into the infinity of the horizon. Leon stared through the window until the doorbell rang again.

"Leon!" Helena called from the outside. Leon opened, surprised to find her with her pistol in her hand pointing at the lock. He arched a brow.

"Were you trying to shoot the lock of the door of a two-million-dollar apartment of the government?"

Helena shoved her gun back into the holster and walked angrily into his apartment.

"What the fuck did I tell you, Leon? Why didn’t you com-" She stopped as she saw the chaos in Leon's living room. "What happened here?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing." He swallowed and grabbed Helena's shoulders. "Helena, I need to speak to Bill Richardson."

Helena grimaced at his statement.

"What?"

"I just got a tip that someone might have taken Claire's body. Richardson might know who it is. I need to speak to him."

Helena stared into his eyes and licked over her teeth.

"Who told you this?"

Two seconds of doubt passed by before he answered, almost regretfully. "Ada."

The young woman decided not to give speeches. It wasn't her business anyway. But she had to decline his wish to see Richardson. "Leon, that won't be possible. You're not an agent anymore."

Leon grimaced. Helena was right. Even if he got his job back, he would be sent on an assignment to Africa or Asia as a punishment and wouldn't be able to follow Richardson. He would have to come up with another plan. But Helena took his hand and locked eyes with him.

"I will go and speak to him."

* * *

 

When Jill arrived home, she started preparing lunch for Summer and herself. Jake wasn't around. The young mercenary always said he hated the United States, but he somehow adored their junk food, while the apples she had gotten for him were rotting on the counter. Even if he had to spend hours training afterwards to get rid of the superfluous calories, he often disappeared alone into one of the fast-food restaurants in town. So, Jill and Summer would have lunch alone. Luckily the girl seemed to be very hungry. In other occasions she had just thrown her mother's mashed vegetables right into her face as if it was a competition. She would have won it every single time. But this time she emptied the plate and let Jill put her to sleep for her afternoon nap.

Afterwards, the blonde changed the bed sheets and prepared the guest room for Chris' return. She felt excited about him coming back, even if they weren't a couple anymore. The talk they'd had in the morning had made her see how much she had missed her friend and that she wanted him back as just that her friend. It didn't matter that they had a daughter together. When the sheets were changed and most of his clothes kept in the wardrobe, she remembered that photograph of Claire Chris loved so much. She went downstairs to get it and place it on the shelf for him.

Running around the counter, she accidentally threw down her handbag that she'd placed so carelessly onto the surface before. The bag seemed to burst against the floor and the whole content flew, jumped and slid across the tiles.

"Shit," she cursed her clumsiness and got onto her knees to pick up everything when she found a brown envelope among the belongings that had fallen out of the bag. It was one of the letters she had taken to Chris' office that morning. It seemed to have slipped into her bag during her visit. She studied the envelope attentively. It had no sender on it and instead of the full B.S.A.A. address it only said  _Redfield_. She couldn't hold back her curiosity. Holding the envelope against a light bulb, she tried to see what was inside, but it turned out to be too opaque.

"What the fuck. As Amanda said, I'm a Redfield too." She took out a knife and sliced the envelope open. Inside, she found nothing but a disc with the words _Watch me_ , written on it. Jill held her breath as she took out the disc with a tissue not to leave her own fingerprints on it, and took it to the player in the living room, sitting down in front of the TV.

It took her awhile to identify what she was seeing. The image was blurry and nothing but a rose-colored layer seemed to appear on the screen. Short gasps and cushioned moans could be heard and she started wondering if one of the female B.S.A.A. workers had sent Chris a homemade porn video of herself. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see whatever was coming afterwards and considered pausing the video and never speak to Chris about it, when the image turned clear-cut and she could see clearly what it was showing.

"Oh my god," she whispered into her hands as she covered her mouth. Tears shot into her eyes.

On the screen, a blond-haired man smiled maliciously into the camera.

_Hello, Chris._


	15. The ago

_Nobody calls you after midnight to only say hello. Whenever you get a call after midnight, you have to expect the unexpected because usually that's just what happened. However, when you were involved in bioterrorism, the call usually meant something really terrible was going on._

_Jill sat straight up in her bed when she saw the incoming call on the display; Claire. Jill was usually the first one the redhead called when something, anything, was wrong._

" _Is Chris with you?" she asked innocently._

_He wasn't. Chris was spending the night in the office, going through reports about a recent outbreak in India. It had taken both the Far East and Middle East B.S.A.A. to deal with it, but because of their involvement, the damage wasn't as severe as it could have been. Terra Save already had a camp nearby and could immediately take care of the victims._

" _Okay, promise me you won't freak out." As if there was any way she could promise that. Jill rubbed away the sleepiness from her eyes._

" _Claire, tell me you're not in India."_

_A long pause and Jill already knew the answer for herself at this point._

" _In a hospital near Kolkata."_

_Jill rolled her eyes. It seemed the most useful thing to do in her current situation._

" _Last time I checked, India is no where near Montana but I might be a little rusty on my geography. Didn't you tell us you were going on a weekend trip, young lady?"_

_Claire laughed at Jill's half-hearted chiding. How often had Claire's "weekend trips to the mountains" in the past years just so happened to occur when major outbreaks happened? Chris was too busy to find out but, of course, Jill had known._

" _I'm alright, Jill. Just a couple scratches, no big deal, and things are stable here now so that's what matters."_

" _Yeah, I heard that. When are you coming back to New York?"_

_Claire sighed into the phone._

" _I...don't know yet"_

_It was the tired hesitation and distress straining her voice that told Jill Claire hadn't just called her to make sure Chris wouldn't find out about her lie._

" _Claire?"_

_The line became so quiet Jill thought the connection had been cut until suddenly Claire spoke._

" _Leon was injured." She released a heavy sigh of regret and guilt. "He's in a coma and hasn't woken up yet."_

_The blonde swallowed. So that was the real reason Claire was in the hospital._

" _Leon's there? What happened?"_

_Her voice told Jill she was close to tears._

" _He was following that terrorist, Duchovny." The redhead sighed deeply. "Oh, Jill. He almost didn't make it. I pulled him out of a heat chamber. It was like a huge oven. Can you imagine how hot it was in there? Now I know what a pizza feels like."_

_Jill couldn't hold back a smile as she heard her friend force a strained laugh through the line. Claire was strong like a fortress that could only be shattered by the danger of losing someone she loved. Leon was her best friend ever since she survived the hell of Raccoon City and because of that experience, the duo was forever linked losing him would mean losing a part of herself._

" _He's a fighter, Claire. As strong as a horse and as brave as an army." She smirked. "Not everyone has the guts to point his pistol at your brother and live to tell the tale."_

_And Claire laughed. The story about Chris' and Leon's meeting in China varied slightly depending on who was telling it, but it always ended with them both pointing their guns at each other - and not giving in._

" _You're sure you're alright? Do you want me to come?"_

_Claire cleared her throat._

" _No, don't worry. I'm fine." She sighed and finally asked the favor Jill had been expecting. "Please make sure Chris doesn't find out."_

_The blonde smirked. Whenever she was going on a mission, Claire wouldn't call Chris. Chris was the one to call when the world was about to burn. Before that, she would always call Jill. Valentine was calm and focused and always listened before doing anything. Together, the two women had kept many little secrets from the older Redfield. "I don't want him to worry."_

_And neither did Jill. Claire was old and wise enough to take care of herself and Chris would overreact if he found out his sister was close to a danger zone. The blonde smirked._

" _I won't, but please call me if you need anything." She smiled. " Now go take care of Leon."_

* * *

 

**\- XIV -**

**The ago**

Richardson was kept in a high security unit far beyond his expectations. Even though his alleged attack on the President had failed, the federal agents were treating him like a dangerous terrorist and Helena had to pass through three security controls to get to him. Unfortunately, even after Hunnigan had announced her arrival, the agents hadn't been prepared for it.

"Name?" They had asked stupidly while they were looking at her ID Card, and so it took her twenty-five minutes to get into the interrogation room where she was going to meet Richardson. The man was already waiting for her in the sterile space. He looked slimy and disgusting in his sweat soaked orange overall and with his long greasy hair tied back into a tail. A layer of dense beard stubble covered his fat cheeks and neck. The room smelled like body odor and cold smoke stench and immediately Helena regretted dragging herself through all those security points and hassle when she came in and saw Richardson scratch his butt and burp loudly.

Trying not to breathe too deeply, she walked over to the table.

"Bill Richardson, I assume." She took a seat in front of the man.

"That's me," the man in front of her replied as he examined her with curiosity, licking his thin lips. "What an honor to receive the visit of such a beautiful young lady, Miss-"

"Harper," she hissed. "Agent Harper, for your information." She crossed her hands on the table and gave Richardson a distrusting smirk. "I wanted to speak to you about your participation in the attack on President Eriksen on April twenty-third."

"I told you guys everything I know." The man tilted his head and looked at Helena. "Harper. Weren't you the one responsible for the outbreak in Tall Oaks along with Kennedy?" He laughed and leaned back in his chair. "You two were lucky it all turned out to be Simmons' work."

Lucky? Lucky couldn't be further from the truth. They had worked extremely hard to bring the truth to light, putting their lives at stake, faking their deaths and losing loved ones on their way. Helena arched a brow and blew out a breath. This guy would be 'lucky' enough to survive questioning.

"Mister Richardson," she said smiling, ignoring his disrespectful comment. "I think you said someone was trying to blame you for the attack on the President. Do you have a suspicion who would want you harm? Do you have any enemies?"

Suddenly, the air in the room seemed to turn cold under Richardson's gaze. He smirked widely and chewed on his lower lip.

"So you want me to help you, huh?" He leaned forward and gave her the the sleaziest smile she'd ever seen. "What do I get for saving your sweet ass, love?"

Helena glanced down at her watch. Two minutes; only two minutes had passed since she had come in and she was already about to lose patience. Richardson was obviously trying to disconcert her, but she had dealt with guys of a different range; really dangerous guys. She smirked. He had no idea who he was dealing with.

"The only ass you're saving is your own," she said and gave him a serious glance. "Mr. Richardson, I know you're not responsible for the attack. But I received that information-" she paused, "off the record, if you know what I mean. I can get you out of here if you cooperate and we find the real terrorist here."

His eyes lit up like diamonds. When Helena already thought he would be interested, Richardson huffed out a laugh.

"Miss Harper," he said smirking and leaned back in his chair. "Look around. Here I have a roof over my head, a dry bed and food every day. And since I'm here because I'm a dangerous terrorist, I have the respect of everyone. Some younger guys even asked me for advice. Me! Can you believe it?" He shook his head and smirked widely. "Outside, I have nothing." He laughed and brought his chair closer to the table. "So, what makes you think I would want to get out?"

She wanted to grab his fat neck and break it, and she would have done it if she'd had the guts to touch the guy. What a disgusting old asshole. She lifted her eyebrows.

"I see, but at least you would get your honor back," she smirked. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

He grimaced.

"Sweetheart," he said, "I'm fifty-seven years old. I'm too old to care about honor and reputation." He licked his lips. "But I do care about a nice view." A shameless smirk suited his lips as he gestured towards her. "I'd really like to see what's under that vest of yours."

If she'd had a glass of water available she'd have thrown it into his face; or she'd have broken it and cut his fucking throat with a shard. Hatred shot through her veins the moment she heard him speak. Was that piece of shit asking her to show him her tits for some information? Her lip twitched a little as her nails scratched over the surface, but she kept her tone low.

"You better tell me what you know about your enemies." And Richardson laughed. That conversation would be entertaining.

"I have hundreds of enemies, my dear. I'm a journalist." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, blowing the smoke into Helena's face. "But most of them wouldn't need a big show like the one in April to get me into jail. A phone call would be enough. But that huge production and blaming Kennedy-" He shook his head and smirked. "That had to be someone minor in comparison."

"Minor?" Helena narrowed her eyes.

Richardson clicked his tongue.

"Well,  _minor._ " He grinned and made air quotes as he pronounced the last word. "Not a powerful influencer, at least, but the one I have in mind might be the most dangerous of them all."

Helena took out a small notebook and a pen. Her despising glance ran over the man's face as she asked incredulously. "Dangerous?" She laughed a little. What kind of dangerous being would care about a journalist with a shattered career? "Like whom?"

Richardson pursed his lips. He didn't like the ridiculing way that young agent was treating him. Who did she think he was? He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.

"Dangerous like Albert Wesker."

Two pairs of eyes locked. Nobody was laughing any more. Wesker. Albert Wesker. Helena scanned Richardson's face for any hint that told her if he was being completely serious about what he said. She swallowed.

"Wesker?" She smirked and shook her head. "Wesker is dead."

Wasn't he?

Richardson leaned back and laughed loudly at the woman in front.

"I said  _like_  Wesker." Oh, his little games spreading fear among people had brought him very far in the past. He still could disconcert whoever he wanted. "Not Wesker himself."

He laughed again, until Helena's hand came crashing down onto the table with a loud sound. Boring a poisonous look into the journalist's eyes, she whispered in a growling voice. "Stop playing, you little rat. Tell me what you know and I make sure that there won't be lying a dead man in your bed at the break of dawn."

Something on her face must have been very convincing. Richardson stopped smirking and swallowed hard as he leaned back again.

"Can I have a steak at least?" He shrugged. "The food in here is warm but not very nutritive."

She huffed out a laugh. Apparently, she had won the battle. Why not give the loser a consolation prize? She nodded.

"Can you give me a name of the living person who's after you?"

The man held Helena's gaze for a while until he started nodding reluctantly.

"Fritjof Vång." He leaned over the table and looked at Helena's notes. "It's V, A with a small circle on top. Yeah, like that. N, G. He’s Swedish."

"Good boy." Helena said smirking as she read the name on the paper. "Vång. What makes you think it was him?"

"Because I was the one who got him arrested." Richardson shrugged. "Also, the asylum they put him in burnt down some time ago. Apparently, there were no survivors." He shook his head in disbelief. "But that's bullshit. Vång is too good to die in a fire."

Helena looked at the journalist. His expression had changed, he seemed almost afraid of the guy who seemed to have got him arrested.

"How good?"

Richardson lifted a brow and cocked his head.

"He’s a psycho with a god complex. A brilliant mind, caught in an average body. He seemed to be-" Richardson paused. "He seemed to be sort of obsessed with Wesker; even met him many years ago. I followed Vång's research for a very long time before I found the evidence that incriminated him of planning an outbreak and handed it into the police."

"What kind of evidence did you find?"

"Plans, notes-" he paused and arched a brow. "And samples."

Helena, who had been taking notes since he had started speaking, suddenly looked up.

"Samples of what?"

Richardson clenched his teeth and shook his head.

"I just made pictures of everything I found. Whatever was found in that lab was impounded by the B.S.A.A." He leaned over the table. "Trust me, sweetheart, don't expect a normal outbreak from him. Vång is nuts."

Helena took a deep breath as she traced the word  _nuts_  onto the paper. If Richardson was speaking the truth, it seemed that guy would see a human as experimental tool for his own amusement. She would have to check out the information before telling Leon.

“Let’s say that Vång is really alive and planning an outbreak. Can you tell me where he would be hiding?” Helena corked an eyebrow at Richardson. The man rubbed his chin as he began to think.

“That’s hard to say. It depends on where the outbreak should take place, I guess. But take in account that Vång has always been obsessed with Wesker. The lab I just told you about…? It had once been an old research center of Umbrella; one of the first ones in the US. He wants to feel as meaningful; or as crazy; as Albert Wesker himself, so he chooses his locations and tools very carefully, always searching those that could link him to his idol.” Richardson leaned over the table and whispered to Helena. “There are no coincidences when it comes to Vång. Everything happens for a purpose.”

"I see." Helena nodded and lifted herself. "Thank you, Mr. Richardson. I will make sure you get the steak you requested. And if you ever want to speak about the attack on the president," she whispered, handing him her business card. "Call me."

"I will,” Richardson said and sniffed her card. "Smells good."

Disgusted, Helena turned and left the room.

* * *

 

A fresh breeze whistled around the rooftops and blew her hair into her face like silken curtains as the summer sun warmed her shoulders. Ada had, as usual, chosen the perfect spot with the best views to wait for her target to appear; and the most comfortable one. Not too hot; not too cold; not too windy. However, she wished Helena Harper would finally come back from her meeting with Richardson and bring some useful information. Ada would have died to get to meet with him herself and tell him she had been the one who had gotten him arrested. But it would have cost her too much money and effort to get into the security installation and regarding the fact that Leon had special interests in finding Vång as well, it was a wise decision to hand the case over to him. He had sent his bad-tempered little friend in his stead. He himself didn't have the access to such dangerous criminals any more. Ada had expected Sherry Birkin to show up for him, but she didn't care who did the job, as long as they did it well. Richardson would surely give Helena Vång's name. The question was, would he also give her the key to find him? Time would tell. She smirked expectantly when Helena appeared in the parking lot in front of the security unit. She rolled a small wheel on her earpiece to activate it, waiting for Helena to make the expected phone call.

_"Helena! What have you found out?"_

_"I have a name. Fritjof Vång."_

_"Vång?"_ Leon asked through the line. _"Yeah, I think I remember his case. I thought he was locked away."_

_"So, you've heard of him. According to Richardson, he could have escaped during the fire at the asylum where he was kept in. Leon, the B.S.A.A. might have files about that man that could help you find him. Information about locations, habits, samples he had been working with."_

_"I will have to ask Chris for help then."_ A sigh found its way through the line. _"Thank you, Helena. I owe you one."_

_"I recorded the conversation. I'm sending the file plus my notes to your phone now."_ Helena huffed out a breath. _"Be careful, Leon. That guy is crazy. You’ll understand when you hear the audio.”_

Crazy? Isn’t there any terrorist who wasn’t? Leon laughed forcedly. _"I'll be alright, Helena. Thank you."_

Ada grunted. Richardson hadn't failed her, but Harper wasn’t going to give Leon the information through phone in a public place. If the B.S.A.A. had more files about the scientist, Leon would surely contact Chris Redfield or Jill Valentine. Anyway, they would soon find a clue that would lead them to Vång, and she would be there to find whatever he was hiding.

"I still have some work to do.” Ada closed her eyes in anticipation, "But you’ll soon give me some answers, Mr. Creepy.”

* * *

 

When Jake came back from his afternoon run, the afternoon had long since slipped into evening. Nobody knew about his weakness for junk food and he wouldn't let them find out so long as he kept his body in form by training for hours after every visit to one of his favorite restaurants. A quick shower before leaving the Redfield home and saying goodbye to the good ol' U.S. of A was his ultimate plan. Jill was a good woman, and her little daughter Summer was cute, but that wasn't enough to make him stay any longer. Especially when he had come because of Sherry who was, by now, long gone.

The door squeaked like an agonizing animal, making Jake consider oiling it before leaving. He threw his keys onto the counter.

"Jill?" The young mother was nowhere to be found. Jake had to step over her handbag, which had been thrown onto the floor. The TV screen was flickering in the living room, infomercials showing the latest and greatest piece of crap American money could buy. The mercenary clenched his teeth. Jill wasn't usually so inconsiderate with her things and he feared the worst. Back pressed to the wall, he slid into the hallway. Jill kept handguns in many different places in the house; but he only knew one of them. All he had to do was reach the laundry room and he'd be armed and ready. Dull sounds came from the office on his right. Before Jake could decide whether to enter the room or to get the weapon first, the door flew open and Jill slipped into the hall. She was pale and looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Oh, Jake, god," she pressed her hand onto her chest and blew out a short breath. "I thought it was Chris."

Jake made a face. As if that oaf and him had anything in common. "You kinda scared the shit out of me, lady. Is everything alright?"

She looked up and forced a smile. Jake looked so different and was yet so similar to their eternal enemy.

"Yes, everything is fine." She nodded frantically as she pushed him backwards. "But, I'm pretty busy with something in there." She forced a smile and looked at Jake's skeptically grimacing face. "Can you do me a favor and watch after Summer a couple hours?"

"Busy with what?" Jake hated secrets, especially if he was the one they were kept from. But Jill just shrugged innocently.

"You'll see. It's a little embarrassing." Her cheeks blushed as she spoke. "I am planning on getting back to work and agreed to do some paperwork." Blowing out a desperate breath, Jill added some tragedy to her lie. "It's harder than I remembered and I promised I would have it done by tomorrow."

Jake tried to protest. He tried to get an answer from the blonde when little Summer started crying in her room.

"Jake is coming, my dear." Jill impatiently turned back to the man. "Thank y-"

The sound of her phone interrupted her. The name on the display confirmed her concerns and tempted her to reject the call _. Leon._  What was she going to tell him? The truth? Could Leon even handle the truth? She swallowed. She was sure Chris couldn't. Chris was hot headed, emotional and would not able to keep a cool head once he'd find out about the video, so keeping it a secret from him had been her highest priority. Claire and she had always kept secrets from Chris. For his own well-being of course. She could try to ask him for help, but he would surely press her until she told him about the footage.

But Leon was different. Would he stand back if she told him to? Would he be able to focus?

The fact was, she wouldn't be able to do this alone and Leon was the most qualified person to assist her. Also, someone who was able to keep calm after the President was assassinated, fake his death to escape capture and then track down and get proof of his innocence while working with a grief-stricken Helena and confronting an enraged Chris was surely able to handle this mission. Right? Jill cursed as she answered her phone, hoping her intuition was right.

"Leon."

"Jill. I tried to speak to Chris but I can't reach him." He sighed.

"Leon, I-."

"I need the B.S.A.A.'s help. I have been following a clue that could lead to something big."

"Leon, please listen to me." But Leon didn't listen. He kept on speaking, anxious to find someone who didn't think he was crazy.

"I think someone called Fritjof Vång took Claire's body and might be experimenting with her."

Jill was sure her heart stopped beating as something in her head clicked. What had Leon just said?

"Fritjof Vång," she repeated and shook her head, almost in relief. "Of course, Vång!" Her eyes opened and met Jake's, who was trying to listen to the conversation with only half the story, knew that whatever was happening wasn't good. Jake scowled, wishing he had gone to the laundry room first. "Leon, listen. Your clue is right. He has her."

The silence spread quickly, swallowing the house in tense quiet. Even Summer stopped crying, waiting for Jill to finish her sentence; waiting for something to break the silence and say what everyone was thinking.

"And we need to get her out of there, Leon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this disappoints you.  
> X.


	16. The behind

_It somehow felt like walking through the Spencer Mansion again. No matter how many times you fought B.O.W.s, the first time was always the most terrifying, especially when it was a zombie, someone who had once been human, caught in the crossfire of a biological war, that was now some dead rotting flesh eater wanting to eat you alive. The smell of dust, old wood and death had seeped in the walls and furniture and seemed to peel off the wallpaper; and probably the walls behind it along with it. A dead Hunter lay in a metal cage in the corner. Jill had to hold her breath the moment she stepped into the office. B.S.A.A. agents were already carrying out cases with samples and other evidence. A young soldier approached her as she pulled out her gloves and put them on, ready to carefully search through some papers on the table._

" _Officer Valentine!" Jill nodded at his salute. "We've almost packed up all the samples we've found."_

" _Bring them to the lab," she said decidedly. "We need to analyze them to have that maniac locked away forever."_

_The agent turned to leave the office and left Jill alone with her thoughts._

_Being firearms her usual tools on missions, it felt secure to work with lenses and brushes to collect evidence. She herself had helped establish the investigation department in the B.S.A.A., which was called lovingly_ 'C.S.I.' _by everyone. This way they could secure the zone themselves without risking that it was contaminated by inexperienced hands._

_The office was almost empty when Jill had her last walk through it. All virus samples and B.O.W.s were on their way to the lab and every note they had found was already kept safe in small plastic bags and cases. But there was still something that caught her attention. It hang threateningly on the wall, staring at her from inside a wooden frame, and it laughed at her. She slowly walked to the picture of two people in lab coats. One was the man they had arrested, a Swedish scientist named Fritjof Vång, who had never been suspect of committing a crime against humanity until a journalist from Washington had given the B.S.A.A. a hint. The other one was Albert Wesker. No doubt, she would never forget his face even if she tried. Jill took the picture off the wall and ground her teeth._

_She would make sure Vång would never see the sunlight again._

* * *

 

**\- XV -**

**The Behind**

It was cold wherever she was. Freezing cold and dark, the only light coming from some sputtering candles, making the shadows spread across the room. She had woken to the aching sound of screams reverberating in her mind, crying for help and begging for forgiveness. Her body was numb but a jabbing pain ran through her limbs. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting burning tears flow as a dull voice called to her from underneath the agonizing screams that seemed to come from all around her. Someone was with her, wherever she was. If only the screams would cease, she could speak to that someone. She felt her fingers grab the dark vest of the being in front of her. A white handkerchief was brought to her cheeks to wipe away her tears as the soft whistle of a comforting  _Shhhh_  reached her ears. Her hands grabbed the vest even tighter, as if she tried to rip it off. Finally, she realized that the screaming had come from her. She sobbed quietly into the unfamiliar chest.

"Where am I?" She whispered. And the voice above began to speak to her.

"You're with me."

* * *

 

Jill closed the door behind her and watched the screen that had held her captive for the previous two hours. Leon had given her a very important clue by telling her the name of the one responsible for the attack on the President the day Claire had been kidnapped. The virologist Fritjof Vång had been caught with different virus samples in an underground lab close to Washington some years ago. Once he was arrested, the B.S.A.A. had discovered a complete network of facilities all across the country where Vång had been operating. Jill had been in charge back then and the case had absorbed her completely due to the subject’s apparent fascination for Umbrella’s and Wesker’s virus strains. Her team had found samples of T, G, T-Abyss and even of Uroboros.

She had done everything to get him locked away at St. Peter's Mental Institution outside of New York, where the B.S.A.A. had good relations with the supervisors back then. They had been trying to decipher him; get him to talk but everything they tried had failed. Fritjof Vång kept silent like a corpse, never caving in to any of the offers he had been made. And he behaved like a model patient. Jill flipped through the latest annual report the asylum sent to the B.S.A.A. every December. Not a single incident in five years. Even so, terrorists like Vång were known for their passive, calculating conduct and good behavior wouldn't get him out of the institution anytime soon. So Jill hadn't been expecting to see his face ever again. Only, his appearance had dramatically changed as he took his obsession further. Now Vång looked much more like…

"Wesker." The name had haunted her for so long it had stopped making sense. The sheer thought of confronting him again hadn't let her rest. Now that her mind was clear, she saw the obvious differences between the two faces. Missing wrinkles; too fair hair; the fact that Wesker should have Uroboros' ugly tentacles spreading from all over his body. Vång seemed to have gotten surgery to resemble his idol, though. The images of the lab they had found in his facilities came back to her. Walls papered with newspaper articles about Umbrella. Personal articles kept in vitrines like collectibles. That picture of Vång and Wesker in lab coats that had turned out to be a photomontage done by a skillful hand. His prized collection of the man he so desperately wanted to be; or to be with.

A heavy pressure was lifted from her chest when she heard it was not Wesker who was threatening them. Leon had sent her the recorded conversation of Helena Harper and Bill Richardson about Vång and it had confirmed what she had already sensed when she’d arrested him, years before. He was truly obsessed with Wesker himself and his work. Now it was time to use that information to find hints about his location on hat awful video message. Leon was on his way and she wanted to find all hidden hints and useful information she could before he would arrive. If it had been a typical message terrorists sent, nothing would have mattered. But it wasn't. It was a hole so deep she couldn't let Chris, or Leon or anyone fall into it. She would have to go through it alone.

"Forgive me," she whispered as she pushed the play button and waited for the hated face to appear on the screen.

_Hello Chris. It has been a while, hasn't it? Don't be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you._ He smirked. _Not yet. But you might not like the content of this video. Even so, I recommend strongly that you watch it until the end. You might miss a detail that could lead you to me if you skip some parts. And I'm looking forward to our meeting._  Vång smiled maliciously into the camera. His face was so close it looked like he wanted to climb out of the screen.  _I will soon send you more footage with other clues to feed your hunger for revenge. Don't worry, Chris. When the time has come, we will meet._

Jill swallowed. He wanted Chris. What for? They had never met. Chris hadn't been involved in his case and had nothing to do with his detention. And even so, the footage had been meant to be seen by Chris. Jill shivered. She wouldn't let that happen. Jake had accepted not to enter the office and to take care of Summer instead. Nobody should see what was on that disc, especially Chris. Jill put on her small reading glasses and opened a new page of her notebook. With her small, curvy handwriting she began to write down every single detail she could see or hear.

She was confident that she could make this work. No need to involve anyone else. She could do it alone.

And she would do it before Leon arrived.

"I'm going to find you."

* * *

 

"Thank you, Miss Li. I hope you enjoyed your flight."

Ada nodded at the blonde, smiling stewardess who was dismissing the last passengers from the plane, and started walking through the jet passage into the airport building. She usually preferred other ways of traveling, but sometimes it was unavoidable to take a public plane. Luckily, she and her portfolio of different identities were prepared for everything. Her phone started buzzing wildly as she passed by the baggage claim. She frowned at the name on the display and pressed the device to her ear.

"I got your message. Good news?"

"Sort of." Ada smirked and threw a seductive look at the guards as she walked through the gates. "You were right about Vång. He is alive. I have confirmation that he made contact with Chris Redfield."

The person on the other end of the line sucked in a breath.

"He contacted Redfield? To be expected. But if Redfield knows he's out there he might be after him too."

"He is," Ada said chuckling. "We might soon have an exact location."

"Miss Wong, I can't wait for Redfield to find Vång's hideout. I need to get there before anyone else does."

"Don't worry. I will make sure you are the first one to put your hands on him."

The voice cleared their throat.

"I hope so. Remember the urgency of this mission."

Ada hung up. She had already made important advances on this mission before she was even charged with it. Vång hadn't given her any information about his real intentions in that warehouse and it had left her curious. In the weeks that had passed since the incident, she hadn't stopped investigating and by the time she was hired to find him, she already knew enough not to be surprised by the face that requested her services now. In fact, there was only one detail she hadn't been aware of. Vång didn't die that day. Which meant that a very dangerous terrorist was running free. Not that she cared much about danger or what it could do to the world, but what she knew about him was promising and she was confident she'd find more samples and intel she could sell later for a nice profit. However, her mission came first and nothing would change that. There was just one thing that upset her. Leon was deeply involved in this case on a very personal level. Their meeting that day had left her thinking about the past. They had confronted each other more than once in the field. Having him eating out of her hands, Leon would always protect her; and so would she, whenever her mission allowed it. Seeing him broken over the death of another woman saddened her, but it was not jealousy she felt. This was not about Claire Redfield. It was about herself and Leon and how her feelings for him always tried to distract her from her target. Lost in thoughts, she lifted her hand. A cab stopped right next to her. The cab that would take her to the neighborhood where Jill Valentine would give her the key to find Fritjof Vång.

* * *

 

Sweat ran down her forehead when she woke up. Her eyes burned like fire under the impact of the cold light in the room. She pressed her eyelids together as if she tried to shut out the glaring light until she managed to cover her face with her hands. Her mouth was dry. She turned onto her stomach, trying to escape the light. Her thighs felt numb, but a spiking soreness in her genitals caused her to press her legs together and curl herself into a protective ball. The sheets under her were wet, sticky and cold. Whimpering, she opened her eyes again.

Someone was there. She could see the shadow as it turned and came closer to her.

She blinked. She shifted. In tears, she spoke.

"Where am I?"

The shadow caressed her forehead.

"You're with me."

* * *

 

Her blood boiled a little more every time she watched the tape. Rereading the reports from the past, Jill had already made a list of things Vång considered necessary when he chose his locations. He used spots in the periphery of bigger cities; discarding the obvious choices too far away from the civilization and those too close to town, which would have risked being seen by impertinent neighbors. The easier they were to reach from private airports and harbors, the better. Vång manipulated rare equipment and needed well working logistical connections to the main access from the outside. He liked the cold, which had caused him to place his strategic point in California in a meat processing plant with a sophisticated refrigeration system. But the most important reason why Vång would choose one location over another was their link to Albert Wesker.

Tracking that the envelope hadn't been sent with the postal service but brought directly to the B.S.A.A. had been easy. Knowing where Vång had come from was almost impossible to track now. Jill didn't want to discard the possibility that he had even hired someone who could have worked as an intermediary, receiving the video and bringing Chris the envelope. But that would have been an unnecessary move; not only because the terrorist wanted to be found, but also because he couldn't know that Jill was already aware that he was the one behind the video. He expected to be one step ahead and that was his mistake. To start, Jill decided to limit her search to an area within a one hundred mile radius from the B.S.A.A. headquarters. Vång could easily travel that distance and remain elusive.

The hint in the video was obvious once it had been spotted, but Jill had to watch it four times before she saw what he wanted to show her. About four minutes into the footage, the camera turned  _accidentally_ to a window. If it were any other terrorist, it could have been just that, but this was Vång and nothing he did was an accident, it was a coldly calculated move. It showed a forest. Nothing of special interest could be distinguished, but knowing that the location was close to a dense forest could help them find it. She marked the matching zones on the map before leaning back in her chair and steadying herself.

"That reduces the options to only five thousand locations." She sighed. There was no doubt that Vång would lead her to him himself if she just waited for more footage to arrive. He was eager to meet Chris, that much could be told, but he definitely wanted to torture him on the way. She looked back at the screen in disgust. Would she be able to watch another one of those videos without breaking down? One deep breath followed another before she pushed the play button again and stared back into the eyes of the enemy.

_Do you see this, Chris? Can you feel the rage? Feed it. Let it grow. It will bring us together._

What was that? A short, whooshing sound followed his words. Vång didn't seem to care. Maybe he didn't even hear it. Jill replayed the scene once, twice, and a third one before a smile popped onto her lips.

"Sounds like a train." She pulled the map closer and began to cross out different spots. The result absorbed her as she kept staring at it. Only one location on her map seemed to match. It was just a guess, but it was still worth a try. She swallowed hard and jumped to her feet as her eyes searched for the clock.

"Half past seven," she whispered. Chris was probably coming home soon and she'd have to do everything in her power to avoid tipping him off about Vång. She had one last look at her notes and felt a strange feeling of victory and accomplishment. She had done it, possibly. And she had done it alone. No Chris. No Claire. No Leon. Only her. How long had it been since she'd last felt that glorious? Maybe since Vång's arrest. She smiled excitedly. Although it was imperative that she started her search immediately, if Chris came home and didn't find her, he'd probably be worried or upset. Was it irresponsible of her to wait until Chris was asleep?

What about Leon?

Leon should be landing soon. He was already immersed in the case and could check the zone before she arrived. Her phone rang. That had to be some kind of telepathy.

"Leon."

* * *

 

Ada shifted a little in the backseat of the cab. The wait was long and boring and if Valentine didn't give her a location soon, she would have to use another dose of sedative on the driver. It was a wonderful evening in June but waiting on the street in front of the Redfield residence would have surely caught unwanted attention. She couldn't risk being seen. The driver mumbled something in his sleep. Shit. He was recovering. Displeased, Ada searched for the second syringe in her pocket when the speaker buzzed. Finally. She pushed it farther into her ear and turned up the volume.

" _Leon."_

" _Jill. My flight has been delayed. I won't be in New York until midnight. Any news?"_

Ada narrowed her eyes. So, Leon was coming, too. Not that she wasn't expecting it.

" _Oh shit. Yes, Leon, I think I know where he is."_  Valentine sounded excited as she spoke, almost like a teenager getting ready for a prom. _"And if I'm right, it's not even far from here."_

_"Well, that was quick. Tell me."_

Ada pulled out her phone to compose a new message.

" _I think he is in a luxury hotel in the woods called Exquisite. It was shut down some time ago. It definitely fits the bill of this guy."_

Ada opened her notebook to lookup the location of said hotel and send it to her client.

" _Can Chris have a look before I arrive?"_  Doubtful silence was her only response.  _"Jill?"_

" _No, Chris can't."_ Ada lifted a brow. Redfield wasn't going after the man who seemed to have his sister's body? Maybe Valentine had gotten tired of him and had shot him in the face. The spy chuckled.  _"It's just a hint and I don't want to…you know. What if we don't find anything?"_

Ada leaned back, remembering her most recent run in with Redfield. He had left his Alpha team behind to search for her and get his revenge for what she had done to his previous team, only that it wasn't her he was looking for. Once the spirit of Chris Redfield was unleashed, there was no way to stop him. Maybe Valentine's decision to just shut him out was the right one.

" _I see."_  Leon's voice was steady, calm, but Ada knew that it would also be a breakdown for him if they didn't find anything.  _"Where do we meet?"_

" _I'll be waiting for you in front of the B.S.A.A. headquarters after midnight."_

Ada smiled triumphantly as she glanced at the time.

They had four hours to get to the hotel, kill Vång and steal as many samples as possible before Leon and Valentine would even meet. More than enough if he was really where Valentine expected him to be. Her phone buzzed as a message came in. A response from her employer.

_Pick me up ASAP._

* * *

 

Dinner had been awkward. Not only because he had come home to a family he was trying to piece back together with his  _best friend_ , but also because Wesker's kid hadn't left his house yet. He respected Jake, but he wished he could spend the first night home alone with his daughter and Jill. It would have been tense enough with the three of them alone, even after their meeting that morning. Jake's silent presence at the table didn't make it any better. Even Jill seemed nervous. His Jill, who was always so calm. He decided to ask her later if she needed anything, wanting to make her feel as comfortable as possible. When Summer yawned for the second time that night, Chris offered himself to put her to sleep.

"You don't need to," Jill said. "You have been working all day long and you're exhausted too."

But Chris just shook his head and stopped Jill from getting up.

"I'll take care of this." He took Summer into his arms and rubbed her nose with his. "Come on Princess. Time to get ready for bed."

Watching him walk away with his daughter in his arms lifted her soul and warmed her heart. She didn't even notice that she was smiling until her eyes met Jake's. The young man was giving her an annoyed look.

"Don't smile that much, Valentine, your face might get stuck that way," he muttered as he cut a piece of his steak. "I know you don't want to tell me about it, but I notice this isn't some  _Leave It to Beaver_ episode. Something is going on."

Jill rolled her eyes.

"You're paranoid, Jake," she shrugged him off with a smile as she got up and removed some dishes from the table. She had managed to keep her plan a secret from Jake, even though he had almost heard her whole phone conversation. "I'm very grateful for your help today, but that doesn't mean that I have to listen to your false accusations." Jake poked the last remaining slice of meat right before Jill pulled away the plate. "I'll be going to bed soon."

Jake chewed on the last bite as he watched her walk into the kitchen.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "You go to bed."

* * *

 

Had he known how much Summer liked tugging on his hair, he would have let it grow a bit longer. The girl laughed her happy toothless laugh every time Chris yelped under another aching pull. She laughed like nothing bad had ever happened, oblivious to all the tragedies the young family had come across. A constant ray of sunshine.

Like Claire.

It was Claire he held in his arms. He smirked.

"I hope you won't become as stubborn as your auntie."

Summer patted her forehead and squealed.

"Miss."

Those words warmed his heart. There was no way Summer could already understand what had happened, or what it meant to miss someone, but she missed her auntie. No wonder. Claire herself had claimed that she was more of a father to Summer than he had ever been. He put his forehead to his daughter's.

"I miss her too."

Summer grabbed his face, pecked his mouth and made him laugh. His daughter took his anger, pain and frustration and blew it all away with one tiny kiss. And he felt loved; he felt so loved he hadn't felt for a very long time. Loved, but guilty. He had a wonderful daughter and though he and Jill had decided to end their relationship, she was still an important part of his life. Leon, however, had lost everything and everyone to turn to.

"I think I should really talk to your uncle Leon and apologize." He whispered. "The show must go on, doesn't it?"

And Summer laughed.

"Oh, before I forget." He smirked and walked with Summer from the nursery to the guest bedroom where he was staying. "I brought something for you."

Once Summer sat safely on the bed, Chris took his suitcase and opened it, making funny faces for his daughter. The girl's eyes lit up when he pulled out a little wooden toy locomotive with two freight cars attached. It had obviously been tortured by the evil hands of a playing child some time ago. It had scratches all over the roof and the wheels' edges weren't even edges any more. Chris smirked sadly as he crawled over to the bed and placed the toy in front of Summer, who grabbed it immediately.

"This toy belonged to your auntie Claire. Isn't it cool?"

Summer didn't make another sound. She inspected the wooden toy as if it was the biggest treasure someone could have given her. Chris watched her. He had always refused Claire's offer to give her favorite toy to Summer, thinking that his sister would soon have a family on her own. Unfortunately, neither Claire nor her child would need it anymore. Summer had, in the meantime, started sucking on the smoke stack.

"Tasty?" Chris asked and patted her head. The girl smiled at him before letting her gums show in a wide yawn. He lay down on the mattress and pulled his daughter onto his chest. The girl quickly curled herself into a ball around the toy in her hands. Before Chris could react, she was already sleeping tight.

He smirked. She didn't wake when he carefully removed the toy from her hands, but he didn't want to risk getting up. Caressing her head, he watched her sleep.

"Sweet dreams, princess."

* * *

 

She woke from a nightmare. Eyes ripped wide open, she looked around, shaking. What was that sound? Metallic scratches? A throbbing noise in her head. It nearly made her ears bleed. The pain in her lower back made her stretch and curl herself on the mattress. It felt soft and warm under her skin and it smelled clean. Bleach clean. She turned her head and coughed, feeling like any second she would lose consciousness again. She stretched her legs, arms and fingers into every possible direction. A shrill scream pierced the air in the room as something touched her forehead.

Heavy breathing made her chest go up and down like a machine. She stared into the blue eyes of a man in a lab coat. Who was he? Did she know him?

"Where am I?" she asked.

The man smiled warmly as his hand slid over her hair.

"You're with me."

She kept staring, kept panting, until the words found their way out.

"And who are you?"

The man gave her another smile, leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

"I'm your savior, Claire."

* * *

 

Everything was quiet when she came out of the office at half past eleven. Jake had disappeared right after dinner and Chris hadn't come back down after he'd put Summer to sleep. Jill expected him to be in his room and hoped he was sleeping as well. She knocked quietly on the door to the guest room, but the silence didn't satisfy her curiosity. She turned the knob and opened the door and what she found put a smile on her face.

Chris was lying on his back; Summer on his chest. Both, father and daughter, were sound asleep. They were so tired that Chris' snoring didn't wake them. An old toy train lay next to them.

It was a scenario she had dreamt of for a very long time. Her husband and daughter sleeping and dreaming together. It was peaceful, heavenly, and it made her want to lie down next to her family. With a heavy heart, she stepped back into the hallway.

"Good night, my angels."

She closed the door and grabbed everything necessary for her meeting. On her way out, she thought about how she would tell them the truth when she herself wasn't even aware of the consequences the truth could expose. How would she tell them that Claire wasn't dead; especially in a world where  _not dead_  didn't always mean  _alive_?

 


	17. The Near

_So, someone wanted to see him. Interesting. Nobody had ever visited him since they had put him into that madhouse where colorful pills were given out like commercial flyers and where the only sharp object around was his intellect. Utterly boring. Fritjof looked around the room as he made bets with himself as to who the secret visitor was. The visitor room was nothing but a white, empty room, save for the table and chairs in the middle of it. Locked by a heavy metal door, it seemed to be a secure zone. Especially since they had chosen to put him in one of those comfortable straitjackets. The one he was wearing had ugly yellow stains on the chest. Maybe it was the one that stupid maniac wore the day he had started spitting blood._

_The lock turned. Fritjof looked up expectantly._

" _Doctor Miller." The guard pushed the door open and the figure of a tiny, slim female appeared in the room. She wore a knee-long, black coat and dark sunglasses. Her dark hair was tied back into a tight bum. A glossy touch of peach rested on her full lips. Altogether, the figure appeared like someone who was trying to look older than she actually was, which couldn't be more than twenty-three. A doctor, though. Maybe one of his kind. Geniuses who graduated from med school as teenagers. He was curious what that little figure wanted from him._

" _Doctor Miller," he smirked widely as the woman took a seat. "What a pleasant surprise. I heard so much about your work."_

_The woman leaned back and smiled seductively without taking her glasses off. Now that he saw her closer, he was sure she couldn't be older than twenty. The girl in front of him kept smiling._

" _Don't act like you know me, Mr. Vång." She tipped her head down and finally took her glasses off, giving him a coy look from beneath her full lashes. "Bertha Miller and her long curriculum vitae are a product of my brilliant mind. You can call me Natalia."_

_That look._

_That deep, poisonous look coming from behind dark circles on that pale face bore into his eyes with intelligence and conviction. He smirked. Fritjof Vång liked conviction, but it wasn't enough to make him drop his armor. He shifted a little, as much as the jacket let him, and leaned forward._

" _Alright, Natalia?" He cleared his throat. "So, you think you can come in here and catch my attention only because you are-" He used the pause for an offensive glance at the girl. "Probably the youngest something that ever came to see me." Vång smirked. "But I have something better to do than to help you. Because I guess that's what you want." He cocked his head. "My help."_

_The girl in front smiled innocently. Without glasses on it was obvious that she wasn't older than seventeen and Vång was somewhat impressed by her adult attitude. Natalia licked over her lips. "Maybe. But first, I would like to help you." Her gloved hand pulled out a tiny notebook and a pen. "Maybe we could meet somewhere else." She winked. "Is there any detail you can give me about the hospital's schedules that might be helpful?"_

_Vång narrowed his eyes. Was that young lady offering him a way to escape?_

" _And then we talk about how you can help me, Mr. Vång."_

* * *

 

**\- XVI -**

**The Near**

As she came to consciousness, she found herself strapped to a chair. Panic set in when she tried to move. Tight restraints wrapped around her neck and waist holding her upright, while those on her wrists kept her from shifting. It hurt like hell as she slowly turned her head and looked around. Candles brought light into the darkness and the air smelled like roasted meat. Music was playing. Was it Bach? Vivaldi? It wouldn't come to her mind. She was startled as the bell-sound of tableware joined the background music.

A mysterious man, dressed in black, was sitting at the table in front of her. Face hidden in the shadows, she only saw what was below their shoulders. His hands were busy cutting a piece of raw meat off its bone. The table was filled with many different types of food she was sure she hadn't seen or tasted in months and it made her mouth water.

"Good morning," he called.

She looked in his direction. The mysterious man had laid his fork down and was now delicately cleaning the corner of his mouth with a napkin. His movements were elegant. The type of obsessive compulsive elegant that frightened her a bit. The man sighed and put down the napkin.

"No answer?" He clicked his tongue. "Well, I think I can forgive your bad manners due to your current condition."

_Current condition? What condition?_ The uncertainty about what was happening made her heart accelerate. A chuckle came from the shadow before the dark voice spoke again. "You don't know what I'm talking about do you?" He asked. "Don't you remember what happened, Claire? How you died?"

She sucked in a breath.  _Died?_

She blinked and looked down. What was that guy saying? Had she died? Was that even possible? She pressed her eyes shut, trying to connect to memories in the deepest parts of her mind. Images of a puddle of blood flashed up in front of her eyes. There were memories of a flashlight in the shadows, a promise made in her darkest hour; and pain. So much pain. Her jaw dropped as everything came back to her. The warehouse; Moira in that capsule; Natalia in the air duct; Leon, her Leon holding her while she died. Their child. Their beautiful little child that wasn't meant to exist.

"What happened to my child?" She screamed. "Where is Leon?"

Another sound of a tongue clicking emerged from the darkness as the man got onto his feet.

"Miss Redfield," he kept his voice low as he stepped out of the darkness. "Is that all you're going to ask?"

And then she saw him. That face. A face named destruction and fear.

"Wesker." She spoke the words in denial, as if it was a spell that could make untrue what her eyes showed her as her limbs kept ripping on the straps and restraints. "Albert Wesker."

The man laughed widely and lifted his brows.

"No." He limped over to her, pulling a chair behind him. "But thank you."

She shifted a little as he touched the nape of her neck and undid the belt that held her tight. She didn't understand anything. That man, that face, it was Wesker. It was all Albert Wesker. What was happening here? Once her neck was free, Claire felt the need to rub her hand over the irritated zone, but her hands were still bound. As if he'd heard her thoughts, the man who wasn't Albert Wesker started massaging her neck. She closed her eyes in disgust as his warm fingers touched her skin, but soon relaxed under the contact. Warmth was exactly what she needed. After the first revulsion, the touch became even pleasant. A human touch in the cold darkness. She breathed and opened her eyes, taking a look around. She had millions of questions. What was happening? How had she survived? Where was she? But the questions about Leon and her child's wellbeing were the ones that troubled her the most. She closed her eyes again.

"I'm Dr. Vång," the man said smirking and stretched his hand out as if he wanted to shake hers, clearing mocking her since her hands were bound. Claire started pulling against the straps as she remembered just where she had seen that limp before.

"You. You're the one who took us." She struggled with the belts. "You monster."

"You can call me Fritjof."

"Where is Moira?" she yelled. "Where is Natalia?"

Vång rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Miss Redfield," he said. "Claire. Will you please calm down?"

Claire pulled up her shoulders and relaxed. It was useless to keep pulling, the restraints didn't budge. She mumbled to herself in frustration.

"What was that?" the blonde gave her a serious glance. She looked at him.

"I said  _Kennedy_." She swallowed. "It's Mrs. Kennedy."

His lip twitched a little before he managed to force a smile. He leaned onto the table.

"What a ridiculous name," he murmured as he tilted his head. "Why would you stop being a Redfield to become a Kennedy?" He sat on the chair next to her and grabbed a fork. Claire shifted a little as Fritjof laughed at her. "Oh, Claire." He poked the slice of meat on the plate in front of her and cut a little piece. "You should eat something." He pushed the bit into her face until she turned away, head shaking. "Open your mouth."

"I-I'm not hungry," she claimed parting her lips as little as possible. He looked at her until she turned her head back to him.

"Claire," he said in a low voice. "What are you afraid of? Poison?" He laughed darkly. "Please. I just brought you back from the dead. Why would I try to poison you?" He kept holding the fork up as Claire stared doubtfully at the offending silverware.

Brought back from the dead. Was that even possible? Had she turned and was a B.O.W. now? Maybe she had superpowers. Her look dropped to her arms. The long sleeved, light green dress and long silken gloves didn't let an inch of skin see the light. But her cleavage was obscenely deep and she felt uncomfortably exposed. At least her skin looked normal, if only a little pale but given the circumstances she was happy with that. As she looked down at herself, her stomach started to rumble. She turned to the man and gave him an embarrassed glance. The meat on the fork looked tender and tasty. She hesitated, but ended parting her lips.

"Good girl," Vång said smirking as he pushed the fork into her mouth and wiped her lips with a napkin. The glass followed. He smirked maliciously as he brought it to her lips.

"Drink." He sloped the glass towards her mouth and poured the liquid into it. She coughed. He had served her wine. Trying to drink as little as possible, Claire turned her head away. She didn't know what had happened to her child or how long she had been sleeping, but if there was a chance she was still pregnant, she wouldn't poison the life growing inside of her. However, that child was probably long gone and the thought of it made her eyes tear.

Luckily, Vång didn't insist further. He went back to feeding her food which she accepted reluctantly.

His moves were slow, firm and calculated. He treated her like a child, talked to her like he was taking care of a five-year-old, cleaned her mouth after each bit.

Once the plate was empty, he got up and looked down at her. Suddenly, he grabbed her knife and lifted it threateningly as he smirked at her.

"What's wrong Miss Redfield?" He whispered into her ear as his hand ran along her shoulders and down her arm. "Don't be afraid, my dear."

She closed her eyes and breathed. He was playing with a game with her. Why would he bring her back only to kill her afterwards? But she knew the answer. Psychos like him didn't need another reason other than the sheer pleasure of torture. She saw herself ripped open by that knife and turned inside out.

Her heart stopped as she felt his hand on her waist. He moved carefully over the silken fabric that covered her, claiming her body. Claire's heart accelerated as so many other ways of torture came to her mind. Laughter reached her ears. She opened her eyes as she felt a pressure taken off her stomach.

He had cut the ropes around her body and was now working on her wrist straps. She watched him and the irritating smirk on his lips as he cut her loose. Kneeling beside her chair, he removed some strands from her face with a tender move and an almost loving look on his face.

"Oh Claire. Don't resist. I don't want to hurt you." He smiled widely and jumped onto his feet.

Her eyes followed him as she rubbed her sore wrists, and she couldn't hold back the question that burnt like a hot iron on the tip of her tongue.

"What do you want from me?"

Vång took a small bowl with red jelly and turned back to her, placing the dessert in front of her on the table.

"To be honest, Claire," he said as he gestured to the bowl to invite her to eat. "I don't know." He sunk to his knees and whispered into her ear again. "Because I already got what I wanted from you."

His words sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn't sure what they meant and she probably wouldn't even want to know. Vång took her hand into his.

"I just want to see if you're as a pleasant company awake as you were unconscious."

Her look fell onto the sharp knife on the table and made her consider the idea of stabbing him into the chest.

"So far, I'm enjoying it."

It could be done so quickly.

* * *

 

Jill was checking the ammunition and weapons in the suitcase for the hundredth time when Leon found her in front of the B.S.A.A. headquarters. Locking eyes, they gave each other short nods. Hers was meant to be an apology and his, a statement of understanding. Altogether, it was a silent pact, a promise, that they were together in whatever what was going to happen.

Jill closed the suitcase again and gave Leon a sign to follow her. She guided him into an underground parking lot where the woman's black Audi was waiting for them.

"I think it's better to leave as unobserved as possible," she said as she started the engine. "I wouldn't want anyone to follow us."

Leon narrowed his eyes.

"By anyone you mean Chris?"

Jill took a breath and looked at the man in the passenger's seat.

"It's not what you think." A deep breath followed. "Or maybe it is." She turned her head to look forward.

Glancing through the window, Leon replied. "I think you know something about Vång that you don't want to tell him." After a brief silence, he turned his head. "And you're not telling me it either." He waited for a response that never came. "Chris doesn't know you're after him, does he?"

Jill keep her eyes on the road. Should she tell him what she knew? She started with a head shake.

"He doesn't."

"Why?"

"I-" Jill hesitated, thinking if it was wise to make up some excuse or to tell him the truth. Leon cleared his throat.

"Jill," he said. "I think I deserve the truth."

She blew out a breath. The truth was too awful to say aloud and bringing it out into the open would sting everyone's heart and break them. She swallowed.

"Vång wants Chris." She turned to Leon. "He sent him a message but I intercepted it before he did."

Leon narrowed his eyes under the weight of the news. Jill was finally telling him where she got the data from, but she didn't seem comfortable about it.

They drove through the thick forest, darkness swallowing everything around them. Jill checked the GPS coordinates.

"We're close," she said as she pulled the vehicle over and cut the engine. "I think it's best to walk from here on."

Leon grabbed the suitcase and opened it.

"Good choice," he mumbled as he took out a couple of the magnums Jill had brought. "What are we going to find in there, Jill?"

She kept her silence as she got out of the car and shouldered a rifle.

"Nothing pleasant."

* * *

 

She stared into the mirror.

"You cut my hair." It sounded like a complaint, but it had been a mere observation.

"It was burned by the fire." He looked at her through the mirror as he kept combing her hair, which barely fell over her ears. "My virus has amazing regenerative powers, even without the risk of a mutation, but it has some issues restoring nerveless matter like hair or nails."

She nodded, now carefully staring at her hands to check how long her fingernails were.

G-Manes is what he called his virus, the one that had brought her back to life. Claire remembered Manes to be some kind of Greek deities that were believed to be spirits of deceased loved ones or something like that. An appropriate name for a virus that brought people back to life. She would have been curious about how it worked, what side effects it had and if it had given her further regenerative powers like those Sherry had, but she just felt so tired.

"You're still weak Claire," he said as he saw her eyes fall shut again and again. "You should rest."

Vång had brought her into a delicately decorated bedroom. The bed looked plush and soft and the bathtub was huge and extravagant. People that seemed long gone looked down at her from old portraits on the walls. Vång had offered her a bath, but since she'd feared he would want to bathe her like a newborn, she'd declined politely. She wasn't in the mood for his indecent glances and games.

_As if he hadn't seen you naked already. Who do you think dressed you up like this?_

Neither did she want to know what had happened before she woke.

She hadn't stabbed him at the table before, and she wouldn't make any move anytime soon. It was too dangerous without knowing where to stab him, if stabbing him would even kill him or where to run afterwards. She remembered having found his corpse close to the capsule Moira had been placed in. There was no chance a human being could have survived that shot through the neck. However, there he was. Alive, and so was she.

"Oh, Claire, love. Don't be sad." He smiled regretfully at her as he caressed her shoulders. "It still grows twice as fast as before. You will soon your hair will be long again."

She didn't respond. It was frightening how much he looked like Wesker. Maybe he was a clone? She had only read about the wonders the C-Virus could perform, but Chris, Leon and Sherry had told her how much Carla Radames had looked like Ada Wong after the mutation.  _Seemed to be real_ , had been Leon's only excuse back then, and she hadn't insisted.

But not just anybody could be cloned. If there wasn't a matching genetic structure, the subject would most probably mutate and turn into a B.O.W., which meant that he had either been genetically perfect to become the copy, or he really just looked like him.

He tucked her short strands behind her ear.

"And you can be sure you're still the most beautiful woman in this room."

Was that supposed to be an insult or a compliment? Her eyes met his in the mirror. His look reflected some kind of adoration, the rest was pure lunacy. She'd better play nice, for now.

Vång took a small perfume bottle and sprinkled some of the fragrance onto the white skin of her neck. The fragrance smelled like withered flowers and adhered to her like glue causing her to become nauseous. Vång leaned forward, pressing his cheek against her hair.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" he asked as he rubbed his cheekbone against her temple. "It was the scent my mother used to wear." And as he saw disgust written all over her face, he could barely hold back a short chuckle. Had she known how much he had despised his mother she'd probably be a little more than just disgusted. His hands were all over her hair and neck and he enjoyed how the goosebumps on her skin felt under his touch, until Claire offered him the perfect opportunity to tease her more.

"What happened to my child?"

He lifted a brow.

"Your child? Oh, yes." He shrugged slightly before he dropped to his knees and slid his hand over her belly. "It's still in there."

Claire tried to force a skeptical smirk, but the joy in her didn't let her do anything but smile widely. Was he saying her child had survived too? She looked down at herself. Her belly looked pretty flat. How much time had passed since she had died and come back? She turned back to Vång.

"There? But…? Is it?"

"Alive, of course." He kept his hand on her belly as Claire embraced it in her warm arms.

She cried.

It pleased him, even though it was out of joy.

He looked forward to shattering that joy a little.

"I decided to let you keep it." He got up and glanced satisfied at her. "Since your dear husband has already forgotten you."

He waited for the full impact of his words as her head turned and shot him killing gaze.

"He wouldn't."

Vång smiled maliciously as she held his gaze. It seemed like the certainty that her child was still alive and that had given her the strength to confront him. How predictable and stupid humans were.

"Maybe he still remembers. But it won't last much longer." He turned and walked some steps. "A certain spy is helping him forget."

Claire clenched her teeth. Did he mean Ada? That was ridiculous. Vång was playing with her.

Leon would never...

Not anymore…

Not like this...

She shook her head in denial, playing cool. "I don't believe he would ever touch her again. But even if he did," she whispered. "It wouldn't mean anything." She swallowed. "It would be just...sex." She hated even saying it.

Vång turned back to her. Faithfulness was a stupid condition many people seemed to cherish. They wanted to be the owners of each other, mark them deeply on an emotional level until the urges of the flesh would be numbed, satisfied with only the body of the one they pledged to. Until those who could still develop human desires had to be excused with  _emotional_  faithfulness. Just sex, no feelings. But it was there where he would break her.

"Just needs. Yes, maybe." He sighed dramatically. "But those could have been satisfied by a prostitute, or any woman. And even so, he chose Ada Wong."

He could see how her grip around her belly tightened, trying with all her remaining power to hold on to whatever was left of her previous life. He smirked as he moved towards her and touched her shoulders, comfortingly. "Forgive him, Claire. Forgive his weakness," he told her as he slid his finger over her collarbone. "And don't be sad." He sunk to his knees next to her, cupped her chin and turned her head to look at him. "Because now you are with me. And I will never let you down."

Claire felt her heart stop as Vång lowered his hand. Carefully caressing her breast on its way down, he stretched his fingers over her stomach. His touch already sickened her, but it would be his words that would make her pass out.

"I will accept this child as if it was my own."

* * *

 

The vehicle had been parked discreetly behind bushes and trees as far away from the road as possible. They had covered it with branches as if the obscure darkness wasn't enough to disguise it in the pitch blackness. Jill left nothing to chance. He shone his flashlight onto the ground looking for traces or footprints. Anything that could lead him in the right direction. The grass had been flattened, creating a solid path towards the hills. He smirked.

"Bingo."

His phone started buzzing in his pocket.

"Sorry, I was in a meeting. Do you have any news?"

"I'm following Valentine." He cleared his throat. "And she's not alone."

* * *

 

Ada opened the first door she found on the right. Just another abandoned hotel room, nothing extraordinary. A bed, curtains, a desk and all the rooms looked the same. She opened the drawers as she had done in the previous twenty rooms.

"Empty," she said and went back into the hallway, meeting the young girl in the greyish hospital robe who came out of the chamber on the opposite side.

"Nothing in here either." Natalia pulled out a phone and began making notes. "I think we can discard the other floors. If I was Vång, I wouldn't just hide in any room. I would choose something bigger for my experiments."

"Maybe we should split up." Ada said as she walked to the next door.

"I told you already I can't do that." The girl hissed. "Any minute can be my last. And if I die, you can forget your payment."

Ada rolled her eyes and turned the doorknob to room 315. She had accepted the second half of the pact reluctantly, not wanting to play babysitter for a sick teenager. But following Natalia was her best chance to get to the core of the whole mystery and all the answers she was looking for.

_And to the samples._

She smirked and pushed the door open and a gust of wind pushed her hair aside.

"What did you say was Vång's birth date?" Ada took a step aside and let Natalia walk into the room. The windows were wide open. A stretcher stood in the middle of the room, some metal tools had been thrown onto a tray on the desk. Everything shone in the moonlight as bright as pure light and as frightening as death itself. "March 15th maybe?"

Natalia looked at the number on the door.

"No. Not his birth date, as far as I know." She turned back to the scene in the room. "But I should have remembered any way." She clenched her teeth.

Ada pulled out her phone and started taking pictures of the surroundings, until her look fell onto a camera on a tripod in the corner of the room.

Natalia was busy opening a drawer when Ada suddenly grabbed her arm and placed a finger onto her lips, pointing at the camera afterwards.

_What did Vång use the camera for, Alex?_

The teenager walked fearlessly towards the device and inspected it. It was a older model, about ten years old. Once she'd checked it wasn't on, she removed the camera from the tripod and turned it. A cover clicked open as she pushed a button.

"It's empty." She turned to Ada. "The memory card has been removed."

"Maybe we find something interesting on the computers in the lobby." Ada glanced at the girl, who took a deep breath and nodded.

"Let's go."

They hurried down the corridor towards the staircase. Natalia was the first one to reach the first floor, where the hotel once had its office area with computers and a printer. The silence almost swallowed her when she entered the area.

_Alex, I don't like this._

"Don't be stupid," Alex whispered. "And shut up. That spy is gonna hear us."

She turned her head back to the door, where she expected Ada to appear. But nobody followed. She walked back to the stairway and looked up.

But Ada was nowhere to be found.

"That stupid cunt."

* * *

 

Claire woke in the bed in another cozy room, with darkness being her only company. That weird doctor had put her to sleep like a child, but she was surprised to find herself not chained to the bed, but only covered with a soft blanket. She was in a cream-colored nightgown which was, again, showing way too much of her cleavage. She sighed in disgust and laid her hands onto her belly. The touch felt calming, like the sound of soft rain or the smell of hot milk with honey. It was warm and comforting and she had never felt so connected to the child inside of her. There, on the bed somewhere far from home, she embraced it like it was the only real being in the middle of a nightmare.

"Now we're all alone, aren't we?" Vång's words about Leon came to her mind and Claire turned to her side, rubbing her face into the pillow to wipe away the tears she shed. A part of her wanted to hit herself for believing such awful stories about her Leon, her best friend, her husband. The other part screamed in pain, in anguish at the thought of him abandoning her. Vång had told her it had been Ada, and Ada had always been the ghost that had haunted her and their relationship. The one Leon had chosen first, back in Raccoon, when he had given half of himself to the spy and hadn't been complete until…

She shook her head.

Leon hadn't been complete until he had fallen in love with her, Claire. It's what he always said. Always. She forced herself to sit up, guilt rolling through her. How could she mistrust him so much while he was surely still crying over her death?

No, not crying. Leon didn't cry. Leon Kennedy roared, he raged, shot and destroyed, but he didn't cry.

Claire placed her palms onto her belly again, feeling the warmth of her own body through the tasteless nightgown.

"We have to let Daddy know that we're here," she whispered. "Don't worry, baby. I will protect you with my life."

_Even though you will soon mutate and break me open like an eggshell._

She shrugged.

"Anything will be better than being here."

She swung her feet onto the ground and walked to the small window. A familiar sound nearby caught her attention.

"Sounds like a train," she muttered smiling. Wherever she was, there were train tracks close, maybe even a station, which increased her possibilities to get help once she got out. Getting out would be hard, though. She was kept in a basement and even if the window hadn't been covered with strong iron bars, she wouldn't have fit through, pregnant or not. She frowned in frustration. There had to be a way to contact the outside.

And there was, at least, with the nearest outside as in her bedroom door.

It wasn't locked.

Claire slowly opened it and glimpsed into the next room. A long, dark corridor was awaiting her, making it hard to say if there was something else lingering in the shadows. She closed the door and looked around for anything that could be used to defend herself, opening the wardrobe and drawers. A knife, an umbrella, anything. In a box on the desk, she found a letter opener.

"It's something," she whispered as she walked back to the door and into the hallway. The soft carpet under her bare feet felt warm and smooth and cushioned every sound she would have made on a harder floor. Holding her breath, she walked through the darkness, threatening every possible danger with the sharp metal object in her hand. The next door she found was on the opposite site of the hallway. She put her ear against the door and listened if there was anything to hear from the inside. Maybe she would just stumble into Vång's bedroom, confirming his reverie of a Stockholm syndrome romance. The idea made her shiver. She doubted about trying to open the door when a voice coming from another room caught her attention.

Her heart beat so hard against her ribcage she thought she'd faint. Raising the letter opener, she began walking into the direction the voice had come from. As she got closer to the chamber, she saw blue light shining through the gap of the ajar door. Curious about who had been speaking, she pushed the door a little further open. What she found was an empty, dark room, with devices and dashboards and with a wide screen playing different scenes of what looked like a cheap home-made porn.

The first look stole her breath; the second made her rage. By the time she had the third look at the footage, she was already shivering in anger. What she saw revolted her in a way she hadn't expected. On the screen she saw herself, lying naked in the corner of a room, obviously unconscious, or maybe still dead. The next moment Vång stepped into the picture, grabbed her arm and pulled her over the ground like a bag of flour. She started to struggle, freed herself from his grip and curled herself on the ground only to be grabbed by the hair shortly after. Claire watched in silence. It was obscene and repulsive and it made her teeth shatter. The screen went black before it switched to the next scene, showing herself strapped to a stretcher, still naked. Vång was sitting between her legs, shaving her intimate parts, making sure the camera caught every detail of it.

The letter opener landed on the ground as Claire felt the strength vanish from her body. The following scene was even more abhorrent than the previous one. Vång had the camera in one hand as the other one was stroking over her belly, from her thigh up to her chest. Claire could just stand and watch how the hand on the video cupped her left breast and rolled it in its palm, tugging on it until it was sore and red. The finger then traced a line over her collarbone and up her neck until it found her mouth, forcing it open. She coughed and gagged as fingers disappeared behind her lips bathing in her saliva. The camera travelled over her body, so close one could count the goose bumps on her skin. It waved away and left her in doubt about what he had done to her to rip the following hair-raising scream from her throat.

"Oh my God," she gasped as the camera caught her body again. Before she could watch him spread her legs again, she covered her eyes with both hands.

She felt filthy, disgusted, and she was afraid of what more horrible things that monster could have done to her while she had been sleeping. She wanted to scream, to find Vång and rip his heart out, to crush his bones and grind them to dust, but a weird feeling of helplessness numbed her. That sort of violence already made you sick when you merely witnessed it. What did people do when they found out they had been victims themselves? If she didn't remember any of it, was she still supposed to cry? The abrupt sound of the closing door behind her brought her back to reality. When she turned, she stared directly into the eyes of her kidnapper.

"Did you enjoy the show, Miss Redfield?"

 


	18. The after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me...

" _Only this time, baby. If you don't like it, I will never insist again."_

_Claire released a deep sigh of defeat. Neil could be very convincing when it came to erotic games and fulfilling fantasies. He was lucky she was so open-minded. Or maybe she was the lucky one, as Neil had showed her so many pleasures she hadn't been aware of and to which her body responded in the most positive way. This time, however, it seemed to go a bit too far._

I want to see you with another man,  _he had spit out in the middle of a conversation during lunch, as naturally as if he'd been telling her about work, and it had taken her by surprise. Neil didn't seem to be a guy who liked to share his possessions, but the fact that their relationship moved on a strict sexual level without any further commitments was probably the reason he was being so liberal. She'd been hesitant at first, having never been fond of sex with strangers, and finding it much more exciting to know where her lovers came from and where they were to go, but she had also once promised herself to satisfy any curiosity she might feel. And, oh, there was curiosity indeed._

_And so she found herself in that dark underground night club in a black dress that didn't seem to cover enough, no matter how much she pulled on it, tapping her high-heeled feet nervously and chewing on her lower lip, her cold fingers curling tightly around Neil's hand._

" _I'm sure he's already here," he said, his look scanning over the crowd for his friend._

" _You're not gonna pay him for having sex with me, are you?"_

_Neil smiled at her, or at least the little expression she could see in the flashing lights of the club looked like a smile._

" _Funny. He asked me the same." He smirked, lifting an eyebrow. "No need to pay anyone. You look amazing."_

_She took a deep breath and looked at the crowd, scanning faces, gestures, attitudes. Her lip twitched slightly. What would that Ben look like? Was he kind or cruel, rough or gentle? She wished there was time to sit down awhile together, learn about his life so she could find something attractive in him. What if she didn't like him at all? It was terrifying and she was nervous. She was so nervous she hoped that guy wouldn't show up._

" _There he is," Neil waved towards the crowd as Claire tangled her fingers more tightly in his. This was it. He was there. Of course he was. She swallowed, inhaling deeply to speak out her desire to abort the mission, when she finally saw the person she'd been so nervous about. She sucked in a breath as her eyes fell onto the smiling face, the blond strands, the short, fair beard and that irresistible flirtatious smile on his lips. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the dim lights in the space or just her own need to find a way to escape from her discomfort, but that Ben reminded her somehow of-_

" _Leon."_

" _Did you say something?" Neil gave her an expectant gaze. Claire shook her head._

" _No, nothing." She turned her head to the young man who had finally reached them and shook Neil's hand. The closer he was, the more he looked like Leon. The only thing that reminded her that the man in front of her wasn't really her friend was the pink shirt he was wearing. A pink shirt. It would have been perfect if he'd worn a leather jacket, but her mind could take care of the rest to bridge the differences._

" _Claire, Ben. Ben, Claire." Neil introduced them._

" _It's a pleasure, Ben." She shook his hand, trying to look as seductive as possible. It worked. She received a hungry glance from the blonde, something she'd probably never get from Leon. As they walked away to a quieter place, she wondered if it was wrong to fantasize about her best friend, especially since she'd had some feelings for the blonde some years before._

' _Whatever,' she thought as she felt her body temperature rise. 'Just make sure he never finds out you're thinking of him during sex._ _He'd laugh his ass off.'_

* * *

 

**\- XVII -**

**The After**

"I see you found my private movie theatre," Vång smirked, letting her know there had been nothing accidental about the discovery, which had been his plan from the very beginning. Claire stepped back.

"Do you think this breaks me?" She acted cool, cocking her head aside, hiding how insecure she was about her words. "I have done worse."

"Oh, I'm sure about that," he said smiling, taking a step forward. "And you're right, Miss Redfield. This is not for you." A quick grab caught her wrist and pulled her closer. She stumbled against his chest, giving him the chance to loop his arm around her tightly, holding her close before his hot breath hit her ear. "This is for your brother."

She made a sound of despair as her fingers hooked violently into Vång's chest. She would break his rib cage open with her bare hands and rip his heart out if she could only find the strength to do so. She sobbed. Not Chris. Chris wouldn't take it. He would rage and rumble and would die of a broken heart over the certainty that he hadn't been able to protect his sister from the hands of a psychopath who washed and shaved her, who touched and dressed her like a doll, and who used her while she was unconscious.

"And you thought nobody would come for you because they didn't know you were here." Vång laughed stroking her hair, covering her face with his chest. "But now your dear brother will know. I sent him a copy."

Something broke inside of her when she heard the words. She felt dizzy and even the walls seemed to cave in around her. Chris had a copy of that footage? Was that how Vång planned to get her brother's attention? Claire inhaled deeply and, driven by a new force, she pushed the man away with all her powers, stumbling backwards into the room.

"How stupid do you think he is? He will know it's a trap. He won't come!" With a head shake, she tried to reinforce her words, even though there was no one who knew better than her that Chris would come to rescue her if there was even the tiniest chance she was still alive.

"Well, no. Not yet." Vång cocked his head as he grabbed her shoulders and turned her forcefully back to the screen behind her, filled by the image of his face.

_So, Chris. I hope you enjoyed the little movie I made for you. You'll find more hints about where to find me in the next chapters of 'Look, I have your sister'. Maybe you need some help to decipher the riddles. But I'm sure there are some highly qualified people in the B.S.A.A. that would like surely enjoy watching a good movie starring your little sister._

The approached the camera even more and started whispering.

_Oh, by the way. I'm thinking about a sequel. What do you think of these titles?_  He pulled out a small paper and cleared his throat. ' _Look, I have your wife' or 'Look, I have your daughter'. A little generic but to the point, don't you think? I’m sure Miss Valentine and little… Summer… stupid name… would enjoy my company._

"I am pretty sure he will come, Claire."

Uncontrollable wrath and helplessness pulled her to the ground. The only reason why she was still alive was that he used her as a bait for Chris; and Chris and his happiness were untouchable; sacred even. Vång let her slip to the floor, amused about how easily the love humans felt for each other could just as well destroy them. Claire had covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back her sobs. The sight of it satisfied him to the deepest, tickling in his fingertips as he sunk to his knees in front of her.

"Claire," he whispered, running his fingers over her red hair. "I thought you would be happy to know that your brother was com-"

It was surprising to see how easily that fragile letter opener bored into Vång's chest. A very pleasant feeling of satisfaction took over her when she rammed the object through his vest and into his heart; so pleasing, she'd just do it again.

_Humph._

And again.

_Uh._

And again.

Vång's hate-filled eyes went blank as he collapsed. She stabbed him once more, through his left eye right into his brain. She let his body drop to the ground, pulled the bloodstained opener out of his eye and ran.

She rushed through the door into the corridor and turned right, fleeing from the bedroom and Vång's reach as fast as she could. There was no time to waste, no time to think, she just had to put as much distance between herself and freak as possible. If Vång had recovered from the mortal wound to the head thanks to his virus' healing powers, her attack with the letter opener wouldn't leave him out of action for very long. Claire dashed down the corridor, holding onto her improvised weapon, which she considered her only chance to escape. She needed to find a way out, get to Chris and tell him it had all been a joke, that the woman on the screen wasn't her; that she was fine.

Because she was fine. The memory of her brother weighed on her shoulders like a stone, but she kept running, desperate to find an exit. The corridor had different doors on each side, but the only exits appeared to be at the ends of each hallway. Maybe she'd find a stairway or elevator behind the door that lay ahead.

"Miss Redfield! You shouldn't run." Vång's voice shattered through the corridor from behind and made her turn. That had been fast. Claire reconsidered her previous decision and, nervously licking over her lips, she opened the first door she found on the right.

It looked like a supply room; it was probably a supply room. Shelves and cabinets lined the walls and dusty cartons sat on them, looking like they hadn't been touched or even looked at by anyone in years. Claire ripped open a random box praying she'd find something that could be used as a weapon to keep Vång away from her long enough to find a way out. What she found, though, were documents, hundreds of old invoices and payment reminders.

"Shit," she whispered, trying unsuccessfully to read the address on the papers in the dark as the vibration of footsteps approached. Vång was close and she couldn't waste any more time. Claire pushed herself into the narrow space between a large shelf and the wall, waiting for a miracle - or just for the right moment to come.

The door squeaked loudly as it opened.

* * *

 

Not much was left of the elegant hotel the Exquisite had been once. Jill's eyes roamed over the reception hall as she dwelled in memories of a wonderful night Chris and her had spent there an eternity ago. Back then, the entrance had been the core of the building's luxurious ensemble, with an enormous stairway to the first floor covered in red carpets and tiny leaf ornaments carved into the wooden railing. It had been easy to miss the obvious resemblance to the hall they had found in the mansion in the Arklay Mountains when the hotel was lively and filled with people. However, abandoned and empty, the similarity was frightening. The Spencer Mansion at least had been illuminated when they entered that fateful night, but this hotel was dark and gloomy. The ambience was only more foreboding as the stairs had caved in and a huge hole was blocking their way upstairs. Jill held her assault rifle ready for attack.

"Yes, this is the kind of location Vång used to choose for his doing." Trained eyes scanned the area quickly for movements, before she turned to Leon, who was having a closer look at a book on a small table next to the stairs.

"This is a guest book," he mumbled as he picked up the tome and showed it to the woman. “Look at this post. It was open on this page.”

Jill narrowed her eyes as she had a closer look at the note Leon was showing her.

"Thank you for the organization of this wonderful event for Umbrella Corp. JM, March 1982,” she read, grimacing in pain.

They exchanged uneasy gazes until Leon smirked.

"So far, this is everything I need to know." He shook his head as he walked into the direction of the right wing. "I'd say our man is here."

"Where are you going?" Jill asked as she followed him. Leon stopped and turned.

"We need to find a map of this place or any hint of where Vång is hiding. I'm gonna open any door and see what I find behind it."

Jill smirked in concern. It wasn't a very developed plan, but it was their best shot. Rifle shouldered, she walked after him to the wall where a two-winged door was waiting for them to open it.

"Fuck."

Or maybe not.

"It's closed." Leon turned. "Let's try the other side."

The woman behind him didn't move. She glanced at the door, her attention caught immediately by a carving in the wood. Three triangular pieces of a circle were placed in a mold; however, one piece was obviously missing to complete the puzzle.

"Leon, look at this." She ran her fingers over the varnished pieces. "Looks like there is a key to this room."

Leon took an impatient breath.

"Wonderful! More puzzles!" He exclaimed sarcastically. "Can't we just run into a normal bad guy? Those who throw empty threats at you and cover you in gold to kill you?"

Jill folded her arms across her chest and gave him a cocky smirk.

"I never thought Claire would actually get you to watch James Bond films."

He shrugged regretfully.

"I started watching them after her death." His fingers raked through his hair. "I really don't see why they reminded her of me." He inhaled and turned, walking through the room to search for hints. "I have much better hair."

Her eyes followed him.

He was doing it again; turning his raw emotions and grief into ice; pushing away anything that would hurt him. It was almost lovely, but Jill saw through his act, and she knew that this mission to recover Claire's body was killing him as much as it was, in a way, saving him.

Memories of Claire trying to make him watch James Bond came back into his mind and, yes, it hurt. What were they going to find in this hotel? What had that crazy scientist done to his wife's body? His heartbeat raced as he imagined how he would act if he found out she had turned. What would he do if he'd have to kill her? If he'd have to watch her die for the second time? He swallowed. He didn't want to let Jill know how concerned he really was, but this wasn't just another mission where he risked his life for the good of his country. So much more was at stake now.

And way too little depended on him.

"Leon, watch out!"

Jill's voice rung through the empty space right before he was thrown onto the ground.

* * *

 

Summer's cry ripped Chris out of his slumber. He rubbed his eyes and embraced his little daughter as he slowly got up.

"What's wrong darling?" He rubbed her cheek. "Had a bad dream?"

Since the girl didn't stop crying, Chris patted her butt and hmphed, making funny faces for his little girl.

"I see. Not dry enough, huh?" The girl kept screaming in frustration, so Chris got up and carried her to the nursery.

Searching through drawers and shelves while a child was screaming loudly into his ears wasn't easy. Where was Jill keeping all the baby stuff if not in the nursery? His tongue clicked in deception when he found the storage of baby powder and wet tissues, but no diapers.

"I will have to ask your mommy where the diapers are." He took Summer with him and walked to the door to what had once been his bedroom, expecting to find Jill sleeping in it. His first try to wake her was a careful knock.

"Jill." And a whisper, followed by another knock. "Jill."

He looked at Summer, who was still crying in his arms. If the screams hadn't woken Jill, the knocks and whispers wouldn't either. He frowned and opened the door.

The room was empty and the bed made.

Chris stared in mild shock at the untouched sheets and pillows, the decibels his daughter cried into his ears not affecting him anymore. Jill wasn't there; she hadn't slept there; she hadn't even taken a nap there. He looked at the clock on the nightstand and the big 3:10 am shining in the darkness like some sort of warning sign.

Luckily, there were diapers in the room, carelessly tossed next to the bed. Chris quickly changed Summer, before he started looking for Jill throughout the house. Everything was quiet, dark and empty. Nobody was there besides Summer and himself.

The house phone rang, startling him into action. He'd been in the business for way too long to believe that a call in the middle of the night meant good news. His mind began to race as he crossed the kitchen to pick up the phone. Had something happened to his wife? The air around him became dense and the phone felt as heavy as stone in his hand.

"Hello?"

"Hey!" Chris blinked. He knew that voice. It was a good one. Angry and immature, but a good one. Not a stranger sending condolences for- "Big Redfield, I'm glad you picked up." The voice crackled through the line. "Your wife will kill me, but I think she and Kennedy need help here."

Chris breathed, slowly. He was finally trying to heal and undo the damage caused by his hand. Bring his family back together and start over again and he sure as hell wasn't going to let anyone take that away from him. He would not lose another person he loved.

"Where are they, Jake?"

* * *

 

Claire had kept silence. The first door Vång had opened wasn't the one that led to the room she was hiding in, but she didn't dare make a sound. Inspecting the shelf in front of her for anything that could be helpful, everything she saw was more papers. She pursed her lips. Throwing paper balls at Vång would leave him surprised, maybe even confused, but it wouldn't be an effective obstacle. She shook a little as she heard the footsteps again. When the door opened, an idea dawned on her.

The first thing Vång saw in the dark was the heavy shelf coming down on him with a heavy noise. Luckily, the furniture wouldn't be threat for his supernatural reflexes as he threw his hands up, easily deflecting the shelf. However, the boxes fell off, their contents spreading out over the floor and covering his feet. It was enough distraction for him to let Claire jump out from behind the shelf and sprint to the door.

"I said don't run, Claire." He hissed as he slowly pushed the shelf up to put it into its original position, but Claire was faster, kicking the back of his right knee, making him bend and, in the process, collapse under the weight of the massive shelf. She looked satisfied at the consequences of her doing, having covered her captor to the feet with metal. It would take Vång awhile to recover consciousness and get out of there, which would give her time to look for a way out. Claire turned and stepped into the corridor again, still having her fingers tightly wrapped around the letter opener. She hadn't seen or heard any B.O.W.s since she'd been there, but she wouldn't risk running into a Hunter or Licker unprepared.

She was about to open another door on her left when a deep groan from behind stole her breath.

"Redfield!"

He was already awake again. She took a step backwards, not losing sight of the corridor, when suddenly the shelf flew through the hallway, throwing down doors and walls on its way. Claire stumbled backwards in shock, incredulous to what was happening in front of her eyes. Among dust and the small rays of moonlight, Vång stepped out of the room, madness written all over his face. Claire ran to the door at the end of the hall and pushed it open.

What a huge deception. She had placed all her hope into the existence of an exit behind that door, but the stairs she found didn't lead up, but further down. At least there were lights. She didn't hesitate any longer. Her will to survive shot adrenaline into her blood and made her descend the stairs quickly, followed closely by her captor.

"Don't run, Claire!"

A stabbing pain in her right leg brought her down before she could even reach the lower floor, causing her to roll down the lasts stairs as her leg stopped responding. She cried out as her body hit the floor. Her head hurt almost as much as her leg after the impact, but it was her belly Claire placed her hands on to, attempting to protect the life inside. Lying on her back, she saw Vång step down the stairs and grabbed the letter opener in defense, throwing a menacing look into his calm face.

"Miss Redfield. I told you not to run." He shrugged as he reached the last stairs, clicking his tongue. "You're still recovering from the wounds you got before you died."

The wound on her leg she had received in the explosion, or the later shot to her spine. No matter what it was that had made her fall, it had caught her in the worst possible moment. She pushed arms up, threatening Vång with the opener as she tried to cover her face from a possible assault.

"Don't come closer."

He laughed. What was she thinking? She had seen him dead, had stabbed him, had thrown a shelf onto him and was still brave enough to keep challenging his talent?

"I admit, I admire your courage Miss Redfield." He smiled somewhat sincerely at her, before he walked past her towards the next door. Claire turned her head. When Vång opened the door, a ray of bright, yellow light shot into her eyes and blinded her. It hurt. She covered her face with both arms, hearing Vång's laughter vibrate through the hall. "Let's see if you are brave enough to withstand this."

His hand came down and grabbed her hair, pulling her into the room. The pain ripped a scream from her lips and the images of the video came back to her mind. He left her lying on the floor in the middle of the room, hurting, gasping. When Claire managed to look up, she saw Vång stand in front of a tank.

"Look at this Claire," he shouted. "Isn't this wonderful?"

She shrieked as she saw her worst nightmare come true for the second time that day.

"Wesker?" Her words made Vång turn back to her. In the tank behind him, floating in a dense blue liquid, there was the lifeless body of their worst enemy. Vång smiled.

"Don't you worry, he will be back soon."

Claire shook her head. The abomination in that container had ugly black tentacles emerging from its upper body, showing a big orange core on its chest. It lacked the signature sunglasses, but there was no doubt about it, that was Albert Wesker.

"But, that can't be." She gasped, shaking her head in denial. "My brother killed him."

The statement bothered Vång, who grimaced in anger and strode forward to Claire. The redhead was still lying on the floor with her hands gripping the letter opener.

"In what state do you think  _you_  were found in?" He slammed his foot into her side, making her yelp in agony. "You were not only dead; you were coal, Claire." Another brutal kick made her scream, for herself, for her child, and for the world that had once been freed from the danger of Albert Wesker's reign of terror. "You were ashes. How naive can one be? Yes, I could only recover a tiny piece of him from that volcano in Africa, but what makes you think I wouldn't be able to bring master Wesker back?" She lay still and pained, unable to move.

He had treated her like a piece of meat when she'd been recovering from death, he wouldn't exempt her from that now that she had her senses fully working. Hand fisted in her hair, Vång pulled her onto her knees and pressed the barrel of a gun against her temple.

"Miss Redfield," he blew his hot breath into her ear. "I can bring anyone back from the dead. Where my G-Manes fails," he said, laughing maliciously. "There is still Alex Wesker's T-Phobos." He nibbled on her earlobe and made her whine in protest. " _Your_  T-Phobos. And this will be my biggest gift for him. An immortal body as host for the greatest mind of them all."

_I already got what I wanted from you._  She shivered as his words came back to her mind. That was what he had taken from her. The enhanced virus that was destroying her happiness was now the key to destroy the mankind itself. But was Vång planning on succeeding where Alex Wesker had failed? She couldn't but laugh.

"So, your goal is to become the host for Albert Wesker's mind?" She chuckled. "Isn't that a bit too pretentious?"

Vång just snickered at her offense. She still didn't know who she was dealing with.

"Well, so far, I'm stable enough to support all viruses I've injected myself, including the T-Phobos." He sighed against her ear. "However, even though I'm still the most adequate subject for it, I'm not as prepared as the Master himself, of course." His grip in her hair tightened. "But he will forgive me once he sees what a beautiful welcome gift I am preparing for him."

She struggled. The gift, whatever it was, didn't seem to be a pleasant surprise.

"What do you think, love?" Vång huffed out a laugh as he lowered the barrel and slid it over her shoulder, pushing down the left strap of the nightgown, uncovering her breast, sickening her. "Won't Master Albert be happy to receive none other than Chris Redfield, lured by his own sister's capture?"

Claire clenched her teeth.

"You bastard! Chris will rip your head off and bury it so deep you'll never fully recover." She attempted to loosen herself from his grip.

It was useless.

Laughing, Vång jerked her over the ground.

She screamed.

"Let's make a new video message for your brother, Claire. Now that you're awake." He pulled her up and forced her face down onto a lab table made of steel. It felt so cold under her she began to shake immediately. Vång's hand grabbed her jaw and turned her head to the left. A small camera stared at her defyingly. She yelped.

"No."

"Yes!" His voice sounded cheerful and excited as he pushed a button on the device and a small, red light flashed up. She gasped for air as Vång rubbed over her lower back, over her bottom and down her thighs, pressing his groin against her from behind.

"Do you still think your brother won't come, Claire?" He spoke with a dark voice. Left hand holding her upper body down, his right found the hem of the tasteless nightgown. Claire’s breathing became shallow when he stroked his fingers up her thigh. "Well, maybe we should give him more reasons to." She flinched hearing how easily the fabric of the skirt was ripped. Her arms reached back, they fought, until he pinned them onto the table above her head and bent over to whisper to her again. "I want you to scream, Claire. Scream for Chris." He rubbed his cheek against her hair and the sound of a belt being undone almost killed her.

The weakness of a cry left her lips as he drove into her. The unnamable thing he was shoving into her left her sore after the first thrust.

"Scream for your brother, Claire." Vång laughed as he kicked her legs wider open. "Scream for him and make him come."

Oh god, what an image. Would he ever stop torturing her? Didn't he have enough footage to destroy her brother with already?

_'Don't cry. It's what he wants.'_

_No, she wouldn’t cry;_ wouldn't scream. She was too strong to just give him what he wanted. Instead, she pressed her eyes shut and forced her mind into a state of numbness, trying to shield herself from the pain and shame as her whole body was shoved forth and back over the cold table. It didn't work. That time Neil had talked her into an encounter with a friend of his she had been able to overcome her unease, thinking of Leon; however, now that she needed the memory of him so desperately, it just wouldn't come back to her. It felt like she had been cut open from beyond. It hurt, it burnt, it scarred and she was sure it had drawn blood. And as if the whole act hadn't been shameful enough, Vång kept pushing her. Seeing his sadistic wish unfulfilled, he pulled her hair in anger.

"Open your eyes, Claire!" And she swallowed down her need to scream along with the threatening tears. "Open your eyes and scream for your motherfucking brother!" Cold, slender fingers wrapped around her throat and pulled her body up against his chest. "Or for the joke of man you call your husband."

She jerked and shifted, trying to free herself from his grip with the last strength left in her arms. But Vång was stronger, able to push her back onto the table right before a loud impact echoed through the room. The weight lifted instantly, no longer pinning her down. Claire tried to hold on to the table, but with her arms numb and her legs hurting badly, she lost grip and slid to the ground. Gasping, she looked down at herself and the nightgown which was already soaked in blood and clung to her skin like a wet rag.

Vång lay on the floor behind her, with a huge gaping wound adorning his shoulder and the sickening smell of warm blood everywhere around him. The table became Claire's backrest as the strength drained from her body. Before exhaustion claimed her, she could catch a glimpse of a figure in grey emerging from the shadows.

 


	19. The Back

_Philadelphia, 15th of March 1982._

_"You look tired Albert."_

_Her voice caused him to look up from his notes and stare at her reflection through the mirror as she kept rolling the stockings up her leg, pretending not to pay attention to his intense gaze. However, her feigned disinterest couldn't be farther from the truth. The rare times they met, everything she was became his. And how could she not surrender? Beneath her sensuous body lay a brilliant mind and her body longed for closeness as much as her mind craved a challenge. Once her stockings were in place and fixed with the tiny garter clip, she carefully turned her eyes to meet his. He was handsome, she silently praised the good genes that had made them both perfect in the eyes of Spencer. It was both a blessing and a curse._

_"Not tired, just bored," he replied coldly and turned to his notes again._

_Alex smirked as she walked to the desk where her brother was engrossed in his work. She pushed her hands over his shoulders, up his neck and onto his jaw, turning his face up to hers. There weren't many people who could treat him like that without regretting it afterwards. Maybe she was the only one brave enough to try. Yes. Nobody but her had ever seen this side of him. Over the years, they had faced trials and triumphs together and that had tested and strengthened the bond they had as brother and sister. Alex smirked against his lips when Albert abruptly closed his notebook. Trust was the exact reason why he wouldn't let her see his notes. Ever. He trusted her abilities so much, knowing that one glance was enough for her to understand the result of his efforts and investigations. And it would have given her a huge advantage in their little competition they had spanned years._

_She broke the kiss and turned to the mirror, removing that little bit of lipstick that had ended up where it didn't belong._

_"I guess that means you didn't have fun tonight."_

_He laughed._

_"I know you find it entertaining to confront people with their own stupidity, but you should be careful, sister." He turned to her. "Their stupidity might infect your mind and wither your intelligence."_

_Now it was Alex' turn to laugh. There was so much hatred in his voice. She simply loved his twisted sense of humor._

_"You impressed many of them tonight. Especially that young Swedish biologist. He looked at you like you were Santa Claus." She pressed her lips together into a smug smile causing her brother to smirk._

_"Vång, yes." His eyes followed Alex as she turned and sat on the corner of the desk, playfully nudging his arm with her knee. "Probably the only man other than myself in the conference hall who wasn't a stuffy imbecile."_

_A triumphant smirk popped onto her lips when she felt his hand glide up her thigh._

* * *

 

**\- XVIII -**

**The back**

_'Enough!'_

The ax continued to fall, leaving in its wake the sounds of breaking bones and ripping flesh. Vång lay on the ground, his body shaking every time the ax split through his shoulder.

_'Stop it!'_

His blood was everywhere, spread across the floor like a gruesome piece of modern art and the ax kept falling, cutting and breaking as if it was alive and filled with hatred itself.

"Natalia, stop!"

She stopped as of her own, shallow voice surprised her. Ax in the air, she gasped under the weight of the heavy tool and under the pressure of what she had just done with it.

_'Remember why we're here.'_ The voice in her head spoke. ' _Put the ax down.'_

Something inside of her trembled in bewilderment. What had happened? What was that voice in her head?

"Alex?" She whispered.

Something was wrong. Something was so incredibly wrong, she started to whimper and stutter. She felt the presence in her rumble, trying to take control over her again, but the invisible barrier she had been able to cross so many times before was now locked to her. Natalia wheezed in shock.

It had all happened too fast to stop it; too fast to even understand it. The moment she had peaked through that door and had caught Vång on top of Claire, she hadn't been able to control herself.

Rather quite the opposite.

Driven by anger, she hadn't even noticed how she had taken control over herself again. Anger had pushed her far enough to grab the first object in her reach and run towards the man they had come for. Fortunately for her, it had been a weapon. She wasn't sure how she had the strength to slash the blade into Vång's upper body. She didn't need to know either. It was done and that was all that mattered.

Her eyes scanned the room. Vång was lying motionless on the floor in front of her; Claire not far away, covered with blood and a half-ripped dress, apparently unconscious. Natalia lowered the ax and sighed in regret. Hadn't the redhead gone through enough? Why did this have to happen to good people?

"We have to get her out, Alex," she mumbled.

_'No, we have to find our capsule. What a stroke of luck that Redfield is here. We can start the procedure as soon as we prepare the equipment.'_

Natalia closed her eyes.

"Is that all you can think about?" Head shaking, she sobbed quietly. "Claire…we…This all is our fault."

There wasn't much time left for regrets as a hand reached from the ground for the ax in her hands. It made her jerk back, but she was paralyzed by the sight of Vång's blood filled eyes in her face.

"Alex Wesker!" He screamed at her as he gripped onto the ax, almost pulling her to the ground. There was no time to think of what he knew, how he knew and for how long he had known about their condition, when all he really seemed to care about was how to put an end to their life. Vång shoved her, causing her to let go of the ax and stumble backwards onto the hard floor.

She yelped in pain before she saw Vång rise, his pants still around his ankles and the ax lifted over his head.

"Time to die, you fanatical whore!"

Unable to stand, let alone run, Natalia crawled backward, legs pedaled desperately over the floor, seeking support, while her elbows pulled her weak body after it. Only few feet lay between her and Vång, the ax and death. When her back met the wall, she closed her eyes and waited for death to come. What came, though, was thunder.

A shot rang through the room before Natalia opened her eyes. The ax fell onto the floor right in front of her as Vång started to stumble, blood running from his head. He tried to turn as another shot hit him in the head and nearly broke his entire skull in two. Two more bullets found his chest, the impact pushing him forwards into the wall next to the door, creating a cloud of brain, blood and bones splattering the wall. It looked like a scene from a movie Natalia was too young to watch. She slowly turned her head to the right where the shot came from.

Those shooting lessons Chris had given her when she'd been just a teenager always proved to be life saving. Even now, still lying on the ground and close to blacking out, Claire hit the target again and again and kept pulling the trigger even after the gun had clicked empty. Vång was already sliding down the wall, leaving a trace of blood and silence in the room. Natalia kept her eyes locked on Claire, who dropped the gun beside her, the strength to hold it no longer there. The redhead stared at the blood on the ground in shock.

"So," she murmured. "Alex." And all Natalia could give her was a fearful gaze, afraid of the confession that would tear her away from everything she loved. She tried to speak, but all she could force out her mouth was a silent sob. Claire gasped and granted her words of hope. "Thank you."

Holding on to the table next to her, Claire slowly got back onto her feet and pulled the strap of her dress into place. She slowly walked over to Natalia and bent down to grab the ax.

"What are you going to do?" Natalia's frightened voice caused Claire to chuckle darkly.

"I'm going to take out the trash." She said and swung the ax against the throat of Vång's lifeless body, ripping a scream from Natalia's lips. Blood sprinkled onto the floor around the corpse and onto Claire's feet. She looked like a horror figure in that blood soaked white dress and disheveled hair. The redhead grabbed the weapon with both hands and brought it down on Vång's throat again, separating the head from the body and sending it rolling through the room. It left a beautiful trace of blood on the floor in its wake. Natalie watched in disgust as Claire grabbed the head by the hair and threw it into a trash container in the corner of the room.

"Say hi to the worms for me."

The camera was her next target and she didn't even care to remove the memory card to see if there were any hints on it. The whole device landed in a tank full of acid, causing a stinky fume to rise from the surface. She watched the chemical reaction with satisfaction before turning to Natalia, who was still lying on the ground. "Where are we?"

The girl swallowed, trapped between fear of Claire's current brutality and Alex' consciousness pressing from the inside, eager to come out.

"In an abandoned hotel near New York."

Claire blinked as the information sunk into her mind. A hotel near New York; not a station in the Antarctic nor an island in the middle of nowhere. The news made her smile a little. She was home, well as close to home as she ever been when captured.

After wiping away a small tear of relief, she stretched her hand out to Natalia as an offer to help her up. The girl hesitated.

"So, Alex, we might have to work together if we want to get out of here alive."

Natalia's mouth dropped open as she shook her head.

"It's me, Claire. Natalia."

_'Don't waste your time, she won't believe you.'_

"Yes, she will," Natalia shouted and left Claire astonished. "Claire knew me before you came." She pushed herself up and gave Claire a hopeful glance. "It's me. I'm Natalia." She pointed her finger at her temple. "Alex is in here. But…" Her voice became sad and quiet, her face turned into a grimace full of regret. "I think I can control her now."

Claire didn't say anything. She just stared coldly at the girl in front of her, not sure what was exactly happening or what to do about it, until Natalia started crying quietly.

"I'm so sorry, Claire. This is all my fault," she whispered between sobs. "I didn't want to hurt you. I just wanted to protect Moira from her."

Claire's eyes narrowed. "Moira?"

The girl nodded, pressing a hand onto her chest. "I'm sick, Claire. Alex wanted to repeat the mind-transfer so she could live on in Moira's body." The cries became more heart-breaking with every second. "You weren't a viable candidate because you were pregnant."

Claire inhaled as she finally understood how she and Moira had been pulled into all of this, and she saw the regret on Natalia's face. With every sob the girl made, her heart melted a little more, until she couldn't resist pulling her into her hug.

"It's alright Natalia." Her hands stroked over the girl's hair. "It's alright. I would have wanted to protect Moira too. How is she?"

The teenager pulled back and nodded.

"She's fine." Her look dropped to the ground again. "Claire, I-" she sobbed. "I'm the one who shot you. Well, Alex did."

Something in Claire twisted and turned as she thought how many awful things could have been avoided if she had lived, if that psychopath hadn't taken her. She swallowed down the knot in her throat as she kept stroking Natalia's hair, convincing herself that Natalia didn't do this, that she had just been forced to ride along and suffer as a silent witness.

"It's over now. Don't cry."

As if she had pushed a button to turn off her emotions, the teenager stopped crying and turned to the headless body on the floor. Pushing Claire away, she walked over to the tank. Cold fingers pushed against the glass. Claire's eyes followed the girl.

_He really brought my brother back._

Claire stared at her in silence. Natalia had always been a particularly odd girl and now she understood why. Sharing her body with the mind of a psychotic scientist had been probably how she had turned so cold and unsympathetic, but why should Claire believe that Alex Wesker was really under control?

"She says Vång looks like her brother." Natalia whispered. "That she didn't want to tell me because she feared I would resist her plan."

_Let me out, Natalia. Just once._

She turned around and walked back to Vång's body, where her face turned into a grimace full of hatred and disgust.

"But my brother would have never drawn upon such low methods." She clenched her teeth and kicked against Vång's groin.

The body shifted.

It moved.

The women stepped back in shock, silently watching how spasms started running through the body that had been dead just a moment before. Claire grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her into the corridor.

"We have to get out of here. NOW." She screamed as she pushed the door shut behind here, hoping that it would become an impossible obstacle for the head-and brainless body.

"Alright," she mumbled, turning back to the girl and urging into the hallway. "There must be a way out. How did you get in here?" Natalia pointed shyly at the air duct hanging from the ceiling, causing the redhead to whistle in admiration. "And you jumped down from up there?"

The girl gave her a short nod. "Alex was still controlling my body."

Claire frowned and lifted the ax.

"We'll have to find another way out. Let's move!"

* * *

 

Finding a working computer had been easy. Leaving the girl behind was the real challenge. Following Natalia was the easiest way to find Vång, but was it also the quickest one? Probably not. Anyway, what she was after was not the virologist himself, but his special achievements. Vång was said to be a brilliant researcher, even more so than the female Wesker child that was stuck in the girl's body, and there was no way Ada was getting out of here empty handed. Curiously, she pushed the memory card into the reader.

Tricking Alex Wesker and keeping the card in her pocket hadn't been a difficult move for the skilled thief, since the girl had been too busy searching for clues, blinded by her thirst for revenge. Vång hadn't only ruined her first mind transfer attempt into Moira Burton, he had also stolen and resold her equipment afterwards. Unfortunately to him, he had sold it to some business man who tried to resell it over the Internet - even before he had the goods in his possession. That's where Alex Wesker had found him by recognizing her own equipment in a search to replace her stolen ones. She had hired Ada to find Vång and get her equipment back. The spy considered she had already fulfilled her part of the deal by leading her to the hotel.

The screen lit up and cast its glow into the dark room, illuminating her face. There were several files saved on the memory card, only one video among them. After checking the other files quickly and sending them to a contact of hers, Ada decided to have a look at the footage. She grimaced in disgust as she saw the content of the video Vång had been recording in that room upstairs.

"I kinda knew you were the sick kind of creepy," she muttered cocking her head and watching how Vång sat in between Claire Redfield's thighs, stroking his skinny fingers over the white skin of the red-haired woman. "I wonder what Leon will do when he finds out you have stolen his favorite toy and broken it."

* * *

 

Leon had no idea who was playing with what toy in that old hotel and, for one short second, he didn't even think of Claire at all because Jill Valentine had been hit by a chandelier when she had pushed him out of the way.

"Jill," he gasped trying to lift the heavy pile of copper structures and glass pendants. "Say something."

The woman started to move slowly under the lifted weight.

"I'm alright," she whispered and turned her face up to him. A cocky smile dressed her lips as she watched Leon exhale in relief.

"Thank god. Can you move?" he asked as he watched her roll out of her glass cage. She got back onto her feet and breathed, brushing the dust off her.

"Yes, but what about you? Any scratches?"

He shook his head hesitantly and looked at the fallen chandelier.

"You know what Chris will do to me if anything happens to you?"

Satisfied that the dust was off, she shouldered her assault rifle as she walked past Leon. "Don't worry about that. I'm in perfect shape." She said, a proud tone underlying her words. "I have been training."

Questioning eyes followed her. "What?"

"Since Claire died," she said and turned back to him. "All the time you have been out, I was in. I can handle this, Kennedy." She knelt in front of the chandelier and pushed her hand into the glass pieces, careful not to get herself cut, before she pulled out another piece of the puzzle that was locking the door.

"Look at this. Someone must have hidden it in the chandelier."

Leon watched her as she got back up and walked to the door. Jill had turned into a stone cold professional since they had walked into the old hotel and it filled him with a certain satisfaction. He'd never had the chance to work with Jill Valentine, the focused soldier, until now. The rifle on her shoulder, she put the piece into the mold on the door.

"Fuck," she hissed and turned around to him. "Kennedy, you and I? We're completely stupid."

Leon frowned at her words, but as his glance flew to the puzzle in the door he saw clearly how the ornaments on the pieces drew the words  _FAIL_  into the wood. He rolled his eyes and watched his partner drop down to her knees while she dug in her pocket.

"Cover me, will you?" Jill whispered as she pulled out her set of lock picks and started working on the lock. "This is a simple lock, just give me-" She levered her way through the lock. "-One-" It turned. "-Second." And the lock clicked open. Jill smirked at Leon, who nodded slightly before pushing the door open carefully.

The room behind it looked like it had been a dining room in its better days. Not many of the tables were still standing; chairs had been thrown around like they were made of paper. The long curtains in front of the windows shimmered in the moonlight.

"Hold your weapon ready," Leon advised. "I smell B.O.W.s."

Jill couldn't even roll her eyes for fear one would appear.

"You're not talking to a beginner, you know?"

They locked eyes for a second, until something moved in the room. When the grunting could be heard, the Hunter was already jumping towards them.

"Leon, duck!"

He rolled to one side and pointed his gun at the B.O.W., which was dashing after Jill towards the windows. The B.S.A.A. officer jumped onto one of the still standing tables, closely followed by the Hunter. Once on the tabletop, Jill turned quickly and pointed the rifle directly into the B.O.W.'s face and pulled the trigger. The shot hammered through the Hunter's skull and the sound filled the once silent hotel. If Vång hadn't been waiting for them already, now he definitely knew they were here.

Jill watched, gasping as the B.O.W. fell onto its back, an ugly red pulpy mess where its face had once been. She smirked and turned to Leon, who was running towards her.

"You're alright?" He asked.

Jill tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a wide smirk.

"I'm good" she said shaking her head. "Stop worrying about me, Leon. This here? This is where I belong."

It was true. The longer they were in the hotel, the more Jill seemed to awaken again as a soldier, holding the rifle as if she'd been born with it in her hands.

"You still smell B.O.W.s?" She smirked as she asked him, gaining a short smirk and a headshake from the man. "Then we should probably see what's behind that door." Rifle pointed at a metal door in the north side of the room, Jill jumped off the table.

The door was open; the corridor behind it, dark, and the hallways bifurcated into several staircases and from each of them emerged sounds that made the bravest men shiver. Leon sighed.

"You're ready for this, Jill?"

As if she had been waiting for that question the whole night long, Jill shouldered the rifle and winked at him.

"I couldn't be readier."

* * *

 

They walked through the shadows of the corridor, Claire keeping one eye on the basement behind them and the other on Natalia. She believed the girl was able to control the mind of the dangerous terrorist inside of her after seeing the spark of guilt and innocence in her eyes, but with a living Wesker on the loose, it was not a great idea to let her guard down. The ax lay heavy in her hand as they advanced through the hall, fingers curled tightly around the wooden handle. Around her, there was silence, on the inside, she was screaming. There was no pain, though. The virus must have healed her wounds and nothing hurt anymore. Not her ribs, where she'd received the vicious kicks; not her scalp, which had been sore from Vång dragging her across the floor by it; not between her legs where he...when he...

Claire stopped and shook her head. She wasn't sure if she had ever felt that ashamed and used, but she knew she couldn't let that control her now.

"You're alright?" Natalia turned to her, giving her a concerned look. Claire breathed. It was a bad time for a breakdown.

"I'm fine," she whispered, running her fingers through her hair. "Just tired, you know?"

Taking a deep breath and clearing her mind gave her the strength to move on. Ax in the hand, she kept walking up through the hallway, Natalia close behind her. They continued down the hall, opening doors she had ran by before when she had been running from her captor. After checking the first couple rooms for anything helpful and finding nothing, they decided to skip the rest assuming the layout of the hotel was mirrored. Passing by all empty rooms, she found the editing room where the video of herself was still playing in a loop.

"Claire?" Natalia asked as she noticed how absentminded the redhead seemed.

"I am okay," the Claire replied and walked into the room, without saying anything else. She narrowed her eyes at the obscene message on the screen, how Vång challenged Chris and their family life.

_What do you think of these titles?_  ' _Look, I have your wife' or 'Look, I have your daughter'._

Her gorge rose, her mouth turned dry and a red haze filled her eyes. Chris was such a good man, big and tough on the outside, but with so much love to give. He just didn't know how to do it. A short sob found its way out as she thought of her brother and how cruel she had been to him, even though she had just been trying to help.

Why did Chris have to suffer so much? Hadn't he always been the one standing in front of the world to protect it from evil? Hadn't he always been the one to shield  _her_  from every pain? She breathed deeply and found new strength in her despair.

Something gave way inside her.

"YOU WON'T BREAK HIM!" she screamed at the face on the screen and charged the console with the ax. "YOU WON'T" The blade smashed through the device with ease. It cracked and sparked and pieces of it flew across the room. "EVER!" She kept hitting the screen until it broke and fell to the ground in front of her feet, small shards cutting her. She didn't care, it would heal soon anyway and the pain was cathartic. "BREAK HIM!" She turned her attention to the dashboard behind the screen and kept whacking it to pieces; destroying everything that sicko had threatened to do to her family, decimating everything he did to her. The ax came down again and again as she started laughing at the mess she was making. And it felt good, it felt so fucking good.

Once everything was shattered and demolished, smoke billowing from the devices, she watched her handy work in silence and peace, wondering if she had ever felt that good before. Coming to peace with the earlier happenings and with herself, Claire smiled and turned back to the door, where Natalia was still waiting for her.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Claire laughed.

"I've never been better," she stretched her hand out to the girl. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

They exchanged short glances and Natalia took Claire's hand. They were both alive, and together they would make it out of that shithole.

A knocking sound reached their ears and caused them to turn in terror.

It came from downstairs.

 


	20. The Up

_It had been the first night of the rest of his life; his life together with Claire; and Leon had noticed that being someone’s boyfriend didn’t feel as bad as he had imagined._

_“Will you be there when I wake?” he had asked her, afraid that the nightmares Ada had given him during all those years would continue, but Claire had promised she would._

_And she was. When Leon opened his eyes, his redhead was sleeping right next to him, turned onto her stomach and with her head resting on her right arm. He smirked softly as he had a closer look at the tiny freckles that seemed to rain from her nose and cheeks onto her white skinned shoulders. Several red hair strands covered her face. Leon tucked them carefully behind her ear and ran his fingertips softly over her cheeks and jaw. Claire shifted in her sleep and turned onto her back, leaving one of her white breasts uncovered. Leon chuckled and bit his lower lip as his fingers kept descending; over her neck and collarbone, until he reached her breast and cupped it softly. He couldn’t resist the temptation; he watched her, amused, as he began teasing her._

_Claire moaned softly before her eyes flickered open._

_“I dreamt we danced,” she whispered as Leon looked at her face and smiled. She closed her eyes again and started humming the melody of the song they had been dancing to the night before. “… so, darling, save the last dance for me.” She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “And then you kissed me.”_

_He leaned into her face and rubbed the tip of his nose over hers. “I don’t think it was a dream,” he replied in a soft voice before he caught her lips with his. His hand didn’t let go of her body as his mouth kissed her, hungry for everything she was and could be. He stroked over the soft skin under her breast as he made his way down to her waist and hips, holding her tenderly against his own body. She felt so fragile under his touch that he almost feared he could break her if he grabbed her too tightly._

_Claire chuckled into his kiss and threw her arm around his neck, softly pulling him onto her. Leon moaned as she moved her legs around his waist and he ran his hand from her thigh up to the back of her knee, pushing her leg up to her shoulder. Eyes shut, the redhead under him let her head fall back, offering her neck to him. The tip of his tongue glided over the delicate skin and up to her jaw; he planted a kiss on it. It tickled; Claire laughed and made Leon’s heart jump._

_“Come in,” she begged as she felt his erection press against her thighs. “Please.”_

_Leon breathed against her skin as he shifted a little, searching for the right angle, slowly pushing into her as he found it. One hand flew against the headboard when she felt him inside, while the other one dug her nails into the flesh of his back. He groaned in plain and pleasure as he moved inside of her. He reached for the hand she had slung around him and pushed it up to the headboard, next to the other one. Pinning both her wrists down, he kept thrusting into her with fury. She let him. She opened her eyes and caught him watching her, admiring her. Forcing up her upper body, she aimed for his lips and caught them in a deep, wet kiss._

_“Leon,” she moaned into his mouth. “Harder.”_

_He chuckled and obeyed. His thrusts became harder, deeper, as her moans went louder and her breasts danced wildly to their rhythm._

_His hands freed hers and Claire used her chance shamelessly to flip Leon onto his back. She climbed onto his lap, claiming him like she had never claimed anything or anyone before, showing him that she would never let go of him now that she knew what he tasted like._

_He was hers and he loved it._

_She was so beautiful, he thought, unable to take his eyes off her as she impaled herself on him. Leon moaned and grabbed her waist as she began to sensually roll her hips over his. Claire reached for his neck, running her hands up and through his hair as she turned his face up to hers._

_“Kiss me,” she commanded and he, again, did what he was told. How couldn’t he just surrender to his goddess with red hair when she was just riding him like that? Claire twirled her tongue inside his mouth as if she tried to choke him; to suck out his life essence; she pulled back and had him craving for more. Leon hooked his fingers into her hips as he guided her up and down his hole length. Up and down; up and down, until he exploded in her. When they came together, Claire leaned down, looped her arms around him and screamed her orgasm into his neck and the pillow underneath._

_“Can I wake like this every day from now on?” Leon was staring at the ceiling, his arm wrapped tightly around his girlfriend as she caressed the sensitive spot under his armpit. “Hey, that tickles.”_

_Claire giggled and turned her head up to kiss him as her fingertips kept sliding delicately over his skin._

_“Wouldn’t have thought that you’re ticklish. Is that your weak point, agent Kennedy?” She asked playfully among kisses._

_Leon chuckled._

_“Oh, yeah, but don’t let the bad guys know. They could tickle all kinds of state secrets out of me.”_

_She smiled widely at him, admiring his beauty secretly as her fingers played with his hair. Softly, she began to caress down his neck and over his shoulders._

_“I want to know where else you are ticklish,” she whispered and made him laugh. He would happily let her search, touch and discover every spot on his body._

_She’d been the girl from Raccoon City, the indestructible survivor, and his best friend; and it was time she got to know him on the outside as well as she already knew him on the inside._

**\- XIX -**

**The Up**

 

The wind was still blowing wildly through the windows and pushed dry leaves and sand into the tiny chamber, but that wasn’t what made room 315 look so uncomfortable to Ada. Now that she knew what had been going on in front of the camera, she felt revulsive, disgusted and nauseous, and it got worse the farther she walked into the room. Claire Redfield wasn’t someone she particularly cared about, but analyzing the issue both objective and subjectively, she sympathized more with the redhead than with Vång, especially given the fact that facing and challenging mad scientists was part of her own daily tasks and that it could have been herself on that footage.

However, she hadn’t come for Claire; she had come for the virus.

She shone her flashlight into the room and scanned it for anything useful. Since the memory card hadn’t shown much use, the sinister room where they’d found it seemed the most proper spot to continue the investigations, as they hadn’t cared about checking it thoroughly after finding the camera. She had lost valuable time in the process, but getting rid of Natalia Korda had been as important as keeping searching for the samples Vång had hidden somewhere.

The room didn’t show any proof of someone’s recent presence other than the surgical tools and the camera. The only content of the drawers and closets in the room were dirt and some tiny cockroach here and there. The medical equipment had been cleaned carefully, though, a nice smell of disinfectants emerging from them. There were different-sized porcelain jars placed on the dresser next to the bed, a huge painting of a landscape hung from the wall and a chessboard with a begun game rested on a small tea table. A pretty weird way to decorate such a small room.

Ada hovered the flashlight over the piles of papers and books on the desk; nothing but some poetry books and old writing pads with the hotel’s emblem and address stamped onto them. A cloud of dust rose from the sheets as she flicked through the pages and denoted that nobody had been reading or writing there in a very long time. She waved the particles off her nose, coughing up a little. There was a bookshelf next to the desk that caught her attention. The flashlight revealed quickly the thick layer of dust that covered the dark, wooden shelf and the books on them. Well, on most of them. Marks in the dirt on the wood made evident that one of the tomes had been moved recently. Ada chuckled as she loved finding things she wasn’t supposed to. Gloved fingers pulled on the back of the book, observing carefully if it wasn’t activating a murderous mechanism. A breath of relief released itself as the tome dropped into her palm without causing a bomb to blast or a gun to shoot her. It was a bible she held in her hands; bound into a chestnut brown leather cover with golden letters on it. The book soon revealed the secret compartment that had been cut into the pages, leaving space to hide a black chess figure.

“The bishop, huh?” She whispered as she observed the piece in the moonlight.

Ada stretched her neck towards the chessboard on the opposite side of the room and smirked. With the chess piece in her hand, she walked back to the tea table and analyzed the game. The bishop she had collected looked like a piece from the same set. The question was, where did it belong?

They game somehow reminded her of a horde of zombies chasing their next meal. The black king was in a crucial position as the last dark piece on the board, while the losses on the other side were barely noticeable. The white king was still in its original place; pawns were placed chaotically all over the board; the two bishops and rooks stood on opposite sides. One of the knights and the queen were missing, though.

It looked like a bad game for the black player. Ada’s look dropped to the piece in her hand and jumped back to the board. There had to be a position from where the bishop could leave the white king in checkmate and win the game, but it seemed every possible square was occupied by a white piece.

She bit her lower lip.

If Vång thought those riddles would keep her from finding the samples, he was wrong. She had been used to solving them since she’d been hired to infiltrate Umbrella and had met John Clemens. Poor John had been a good man, whose intellect had gotten him killed. Only fools could live happily in a world where bioterrorism was a common subject in the news, as people who knew too much were likely to get chased by either one side or the other, or both, like herself. John hadn’t only been a brilliant researcher, but also a huge fan of encrypted messages and puzzles, which was something they both used to hide their affair from prying eyes. One day he had sent her a small wooden box that only opened if it was held into the sunlight in the right angle; the gadget was more expensive than the tiny gold ring she had found inside of it along with a marriage proposal. Poor John had seen his theories confirmed and gotten infected before she could even give him an answer. She had kept the ring, though.

Ada forced her attention back to the chessboard. There was only one free position from where the bishop could threaten the white king. She carefully placed the piece onto square C4 on the board and waited expectantly.  Surprisingly, nothing happened. Teeth gritting, she started observing the game again, soon deducing that there was no other solution to this puzzle. Unless it wasn’t a puzzle.

She huffed at her own mistake. Vång hadn’t left this as a riddle for her to solve, but to hide something from strangers; and the chess piece wasn’t a hint, but a simple key. Following a logical order would surely lead her down the wrong path. Her eyes scanned the board again. Was it possible that the black bishop wouldn’t stop after checkmating the king? In a common chess game, the king was never captured, considering the checkmate the end of the game. Vång, however, had proven to be unrefined enough to give a damn about respect or ethics.

She replaced the white king with the black bishop and something behind her clicked. Turning her head back, she found the landscape painting swinging open slowly, letting a blue light shine into the room. _‘How original - a hidden door behind a painting,’_ Ada thought. _‘New villain, same old tricks.’_ She drew her gun, expecting anything to jump out from behind the painting, and slowly advanced towards it.

Nothing jumped out of the cabinet behind the painting; nothing big enough to be dangerous would have fitted into it anyway. She found some sort of fridge containing test tubes and samples. She smirked victoriously as she took up one of the syringes and read the inscription on it.

“AG-40289.” Whatever it was, it was surely expensive. Ada kept inspecting the rest of the content, until her phone buzzed. “Any news about what was on the memory card?” she asked quietly into the speaker.

The response made her eyes glow.

* * *

 

At some point, there was no way farther down, and after trying to break through a blocked metal door, Jill and Leon had to choose a way up again. On the ground floor they found a machine room full of pipes and valves, where smoke emerged from openings in the walls, shining brightly in the dark red lights. The air was broiling and made it hard to breathe. Jill snapped on her flashlight to investigate the darkest corners, finding a body lying on the ground. At least, it looked like something that had been living once.

“This man has been dead for weeks.” She knelt down next to him and turned the name sign on his suit. “Winward, a maintenance guy. He’s completely mummified.”

“In these surroundings? No wonder.” Leon narrowed his eyes as he found a trace of a dark liquid on the ground and followed it to a nearby door. “Jill.”

The B.S.A.A. officer joined him, pressing her back against the wall next to the door, waiting for Leon to put his hand onto the handle. After one last nod from his partner, he pushed the door open, turning into the room with his gun lifted, Jill stepping in right after him. The temperature decreased suddenly. Agile eyes scanned the area that turned out to be a lab full glass capsules, ten or twelve, most of them occupied with female human bodies. At first sight, they looked like cryogenic suspension capsules; a closer look showed them, though, that it was simple glass coffins. They were in the morgue it seemed. Fortunately, the lab was empty besides that.

Jill watched Leon holster his weapon inattentively, placing a hand onto the glass case of the first coffin and inspecting the face of the body inside. She shook. It was frightening to see such a dark shadow on his face. Stronger than life and death together, Leon Kennedy had always been considered one of the best agents the world could count on, but with his life in shards, all that was left of him was that stone wall of a man; just a shell with no life in it. Apparently, it was true; an important part of Leon had died with Claire two months prior. Jill watched him, wondering if it was wrong to give him some hope.

“Leon,” she whispered softly as the agent started looking closely at the content of the coffins, obviously searching for the familiar face of his wife, and not finding anything. Of course, he didn’t find anything. Claire wasn’t dead. Jill sighed. “Listen-”

 

He turned, ready to hear what Jill had to tell him, but she never got the chance to; someone or something considered they were disturbing. Jill had heard the rattling just a second before the thing broke through the ground and aimed for them.

“Leon, down!”

Both rolled into opposite directions and dodged the attack of the huge snake B.O.W. that leaned out from the floor below and spat at them. Most of it was still hidden on the floor below, but seeing the head, she could foresee that the thing was at least thirty feet long. Its dark scales shimmered in the dim light of the room as it seemed to dance to the rhythm of its own rattling music. The glass coffins were broken; not to speak of the ground, which now wore a beautiful dark hole in it. Jill ground her teeth. God, she hated snakes.

“You’re alright?” Leon’s voice came from the other corner of the room.

“I’m fine!” she yelled back. On one knee, Jill fired at the snake until it roared in pain and anger. Leon was shooting from where he was, too. “Don’t let it get too close!”

A metal object jumped over the ground and the following blast rumbled through the room. Leon had thrown a grenade it seemed and it pumped the snake backwards. It groaned and shook and withdrew, disappearing into the hole where it had come from. Dust and smoke filled the room and Jill took the chance to stand up and run toward the gap, where she met Leon.

“Great,” he hissed as they inspected the floor. “I already thought this would be boring.”

Jill shook her head. Maybe it was time to call reinforcements. She searched for her phone, thinking if Rory Williams could send them some men and more weapons without getting Chris involved.

A sound came from the floor below. Before they could aim for the threatening noise again, the Snake rushed up the hole, and jumped onto Leon, catching him between its fangs.

“Leon!” she screamed as she kept firing at the beast, attempting to make it release her friend. Blood splattered over the floor; that much she could see in the dusty darkness before the snake turned its upper body and threw itself against her.

Glass and stone shattered through the room as Jill tried to reach for Leon in blindness. She stretched her hand out, palpating nothing more than dust. Up and down lost their meaning as gravity gave up on her and left her floating in a fog of destruction. She was fragile; weightless like air. What felt like it lasted a hundred years, was just a fracture of a second as the B.O.W. threw her backwards into the wall and something creaked inside of her like a lobster shell. She wasn’t made of air anymore. She was made of bones and muscles and every single one of them hurt.

 

Jill tried to speak and call for the lost partner; however, instead of words, blood bubbled from her mouth.

 

* * *

 

Natalia was following Claire closely as they dashed through the corridor. Something was moving in the basement and the fear of the immortal headless scientist behind them didn’t leave them any other choice. Not without proper weaponry; not without a plan.

“Run, don’t stop,” Claire gasped as she spotted a stairway. “We’ll soon be out.”

Something smashed the door to the basement open and made her cry out. The headless man had managed to break out of his prison and was now chasing them again. His footsteps echoed through the room as threatening as gunfire.

Natalia gasped for air. Her lungs seemed to compress more with every step she ran, making breathing impossible. She coughed up blood and staggered, but something kept her from falling. Claire’s hand reached for Natalia’s to keep pulling the girl after her. “I got you.”

 

Fingers twirled in her palm as Natalia tried to hold on to her, her little feet acting as a mere support to the force that was dragging her forward. Claire had almost pulled her to the stairway when a tremor shook the whole building and caused the women to fall.

“What was that?” Claire turned to Natalia, checking if the girl was alright. It was when she caught sight of the headless person following them. Vång was laughing loudly, his head stuffed under his right arm.

“Miss Redfield!” The dead face shouted after her while she bent over Natalia, trying to pull the girl into her grip. “Stop running, Claire.”

 

She watched in repulsion the abomination Vång had become, unable to take her eyes off him. Throwing Natalia’s arms around her neck and pulling her onto her back, Claire hissed as she watched how Vång placed his head onto his shoulders, muscles, flesh and arteries snapping back together with whipping sounds, healing him, curing him. It was terrifying and repulsive and it wasn’t even the worst about the man who was reconstructing himself in front of her. Claire gasped, her left hand clinging to Natalia’s arms around her neck, the other searching for the ax on the floor, while her eyes were still stuck on Vång. He tilted his head, smiled creepily and kept walking towards her.

“Oh, Claire,” he said as he watched her collapse again under the weight of the girl on her shoulders. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

She turned her head in anger and got up, lifting the ax as she stood protectively in front of Natalia.

“Don’t come closer!”

He laughed darkly, ignoring her words.

“I was so captivated by the idea of getting the T-Phobos for the mind transfer that I ignored its real power.” Step by step he advanced towards the women, unimpressed by Claire’s declaration of war. “The signals were there. Your T-Phobos has impressive reanimating powers, Claire, even without mutating you. That was why you moved so early in the recovery process after your passing. My G-Manes heals, it cures, but it wouldn’t be able to make dead tissue move. And it would take it months to rebuild a complete head that has been cut off.” A sinister smile dressed his face as his lip twitched. “So, thank you, Claire. Your T-Phobos just saved me after your treacherous attack with the ax, and now it will be the key to bring master Wesker back.” He was so close he could easily attack Claire and she could smell the warm blood on him. Before he could take another step, Claire swung the ax into his direction, against his left arm, causing Vång to twist and turn like a merry-go-round. He kept cool though, giving Claire a chiding glance over the shoulder as he held his upper arm, carefully pushing it back into place. “I’m getting tired of your backstabbing attitude, my dear. You should show a little more gratefulness. I’m the one who brought you and your child back from the dead after your dear husband left you burning.”

Claire shook her head and lurched forward to pull Natalia to her feet. “Natalia, come on, please. You have to run.”

The girl gasped heavily and coughed up blood as she tried to walk, held up by Claire, as Vång came menacingly close. He dashed forward and Claire let go of Natalia as his hand curled easily around her wrist. The redhead turned and hammered the ax against his lower arm again, cutting off with one lucky hit the hand that was holding her. Vång grunted loudly but didn’t flinch further when Claire pulled his hand off her body and threw it away in disgust, watching how it jumped devilishly over the floor.

“You see, Claire?” Vång laughed at her. “Your blood made this possible.”

 

Her expression darkened as she turned the ax in her hand. If she couldn’t kill him, she would find another way to take him down. Picturing him spiked onto a pale from which he couldn’t free himself; captured inside a water tank, drowning over and over again; or consumed by acid; she felt the warmth of satisfaction crawl up her face in shape of a malevolent smile as her heart beat faster.

Ax lifted, she jumped towards him, willing to butcher, slice him into pieces and feed him to corrosion. It would be such a sweet revenge.

 

It was a little late for Vång to jump back when he saw Claire’s ax come down again. She spun and kicked like a warrior and got the blade to cut the flesh on his right calf, causing him to stumble. He kicked her face, though, sending her rolling backwards over the floor. Iron taste shot into her mouth and she spat out some blood before the wound in her inner cheek healed. Pretty useful those healing powers.

 

“Miss Redfield,” Vång gasped, laughing darkly, “Looks like you didn’t turn out to be as nice company as I had expected.“ He pushed his hand into his pocket and took out a syringe with a green liquid bubbling in it. “It’s time to make you human again, so I can finally get rid of you.”

 

Before she could wonder what substance he was injecting her and how it would help him kill her, she had to dodge his next attack. Unafraid of the blade or any pain it could bring, Vång pushed forward, trying to hit Claire in the side. She advanced to slam the ax into his body again to force him down onto the ground, but before she could reach him, Vång turned. With a quick move he pulled Claire towards him, causing her to drop the ax. Vång was fast and athletic and he pushed her into the wall with too much ease, cutting her breath pushing his lower arm into her throat. Strength vanished completely from her limbs as she desperately gasped for air, scratching over his shoulders and ramming her knee into his side. It was useless, though. Nothing was enough to stop the man from pressing the needle into her neck and shooting the green fluid into her blood way. It stung into her and burnt through her veins as her eyes stared at her punisher in shock. He let go of her, smiling in satisfaction as he watched her slide to the ground.

 

“Enjoy your last minutes of immortality, Claire,” he whispered, slowly taking out a revolver from his pocket and aiming for her head. “This was it.”

However, before he could pull the trigger, something pushed him to his side.

_That’s good, fearless girl._

Alex’ voice in her head encouraged her to attack Vång again, telling her exactly what she had to do. Where her dying body took that strength from was a mystery – so was the provenience of the long metal lance that had suddenly appeared on the ground next to her body. It looked like a fire poker, and she wondered if there were any fireplaces close. Anyway, it was exactly what she needed to stop the mad scientist from hurting Claire. Under the fire of Alex’ boldening words, Natalia bored the lance into his chest and pushed him to the ground. He spat blood as the metal perforated his lungs and windpipe.

_Go on. Leave him pinned to the ground._

Natalia kept pushing the metal through Vång’s chest in a desperate intent to immobilize him, but the floor was too hard and rigid for her to successfully pin him down.

“I can’t do it.”

Her forehead dropped against her fists, which were tightly wrapped around the metal as Vång slowly started to move again. Claire was lying on the floor behind her, uselessly panting and shaking. She would be an easy target for Vång once he woke up and there was nothing Natalia could do about it. Tears ran down her cheeks under the weight of the certainty that she couldn’t do anything to stop the evil soul below. Even in full health, she was still a teenager; but with her lungs coming apart, she was nothing more than a weak skeleton full of mashed organs; fragile and small.

She covered her mouth with her hand, soon coughing up blood and dark pieces of flesh into her palm. Disgusted by her lungs’ particular way to say hello, she found a way to keep Vång from following them. She wasn’t strong enough to slam a metal lance into the ground, but she still had enough power to rip off the sleeve of the cheap hospital robe she wore. Pulling at the fabric, she tore the seams and separated the sleeve from the rest of the robe. Rolling the cloth into a ball, Natalia knelt down, opened Vång’s mouth and pushed the fabric down his throat. The scientist convulsed under her, trembling as his body longed for air.

“Eat this,” Natalia whispered as she forced the cotton ball farther down his pipe; so far, he soon stopped moving. “And when you wake up, you’re going to choke all over again.” She made sure that the robe stuck so deep that he wouldn’t be able to pull it out on his own before dying again. She sighed in relief.

“I think I made it,” Natalia spoke to herself, hearing Alex’ laughter in her head.

 _You did, fearless girl._ A short, comforting silence came. It was so quiet around them, Natalia could hear the air whistle through her obstructed windpipe as she breathed. It felt like peace, and it was good. _Now let’s get Albert out of here._

But peace never lasted very long where she was. Natalia froze under the impact of Alex’ words in her head. “What?” What had Alex said - thought? Was she pursuing the same goals as Vång had been? That hadn’t been the plan. A hand on her shoulder made her turn in shock, relaxing in relief when she looked into Claire’s face. The redhead was covered in sweat and a dark shadow rested under her eyes; she was gasping, but she was awake.

“That was very clever, congratulations,” she rolled to her knees and forced herself onto her feet again, leaning against the wall searching for support. “Take the gun, I’ll take the ax. And let’s get the fuck out of here.”

_No, Natalia. Don’t leave my brother here. I can still use him._

Natalia nodded, forcing a smile and doing her best to contain Alex’ will.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

 

He had dreamt of Claire again.

Admittedly, since her death he hadn’t spent one single night without seeing her in his dreams. His mind wasn’t willing to let go of her memory; not yet, at least. The first nights the dreams had felt more vivid than reality itself, letting him taste her smell on the tip of his tongue and touch the sound of her voice with his fingers. Over the past two months, it had all become a little hazier but not less intense, because even though his senses seemed to slowly erase the memory they had kept of her and start the healing, his heart didn’t want to mend, holding on to every painful feeling of failure, guilt, loss and love. They would always persist and be a part of him until his time would come.

He was almost sure his time had come already. Awakened in darkness and cold, he expected the pain to invade him as soon as he remembered how he had gotten where he was. The snake dressed in black and red, the deafening sound of a structure coming down, the fear on Jill’s face and the darkness that claimed him afterwards had found a place to rest on his mind and wouldn’t let go of him, like so many other things he had lived and seen in the past. The weird thing about it was that there was no pain. No stinging in his chest when he tried to breathe, no creaking when he tried to move. Nothing. His heart was still beating, though, he noticed as he put his hand to his neck to check his vital signs. Maybe he had just been incredibly lucky. Leon sat up.

“Jill?” He called into the darkness and listened. Nothing but the sound of the wind blowing through the building reached his ears, so he called again, with the same response.

The ex-agent rolled onto his elbow to push himself up and began feeling nauseous. His free hand palpated along his leg intuitively until it found the small pocket where he kept the doses of green herbs, quickly opening the case and taking out one of the tiny tablets. At least it would restore his energy and cause the nausea to cease. He felt better immediately, soon crawling onto his knees and searching for his equipment on the ground around him. It was dark and the ground was sticky, but he bravely kept searching for his tools and weapons, pushing his earpiece into his ear as soon as he found it. Once he switched his flashlight on, he found that the stickiness on the floor was a lake of blood he had been lying in. He himself was fine, though. His heart began to race as the fear it could be Jill’s blood took over him. His handgun and some ammunition had been placed carefully next to him along with a small metal case he grabbed and opened it without hesitating. Intuition was telling him who had left him the gift, but the short glance into the case confirmed it. Inside, he found two syringes. Before Leon could do anything, he heard something move in the room.

The agent grabbed the handgun and jumped onto his feet. His eyes scanned the room for enemies, but when something swooshed through the air, he was more than sure who his silent company had been. After so many years, he would always recognize that shade of red, the sound of her hook shot and her particular way to vanish when things got too compromising.

“Ada!” He yelled through the room as the shadow flew over his head to a higher floor and disappeared. A curse on his lips, he shone his flashlight into the room. It looked like another dining hall, for staff probably, with several plywood tables and rusty chairs around them. In the middle of the area lay the dead body of the snake B.O.W. that had attacked them earlier. Leon’s look flew up. Part of the ceiling had come down, which was probably where the snake had broken through. Maybe Jill was still on the upper floor. Leon decided to try to call her and took out his phone, when a message came in.

_Sorry I couldn’t stay for a talk. Take the AG-40289 with you. You might consider it helpful._

Leon frowned at the lines.

“Helpful, huh?” He considered running after Ada and request answers about why she was in the hotel, what the substance in the syringe was, and the most important question of them all: if she knew anything about the whereabouts of Claire’s body. However, he first needed to make sure Jill was alright. He started dialing her number again and felt his heart beat faster with every second that passed without response. When he was about to give up, the line crackled.

“Leon,” Jill’s voice sounded weak, like a whisper, but she was alive. “Thank god, I thought you were dead.”

“Jill, where are you? Are you hurt?” Leon walked angrily through the room towards the dead B.O.W.

“I’m alright,” she said softly. “That thing knocked me out, had me spit blood but now I only feel a little dizzy. We should watch out for it, Leon.”

He cleared his throat.

“No need to,” he said as he stood over the dead snake. “Someone already took care of it. It’s dead.”

“What?” Jill whispered confusedly, but quickly dropped the subject. “Anyway, we should regroup A.S.A.P. I think you’re on the floor below the room where we were separated, but it was too high for me to jump. I’m on my way down.”

Leon hummed as he walked through the room until he found a door and opened it.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s meet halfway.”

Once he’d hung up, he pulled out his gun and flashlight, ready for any other gift that crazy scientist could have prepared for them, and left the room, stepping into another dark hallway. They had been lucky this time, but it was way too dangerous to put the guard down.

 

* * *

 

How long had it been since she’d last picked a lock? She’d once been pretty skilled with handmade lock picks; so much that even Jill would have admired her for her proficiency. However, that had been many years ago and no matter how old the simple lock on the metal door was, it was taking her longer than she would have wished. Also, the hairpin wasn’t the most reliable object to pick the lock as it was a little too weak to tense correctly. However, it would have to work and at least it was giving Natalia some time to rest. The girl was sitting on the floor behind her, eyes and ears on the hall in case something or someone would attack them.

 _I know what you’re about to ask and it’s stupid._ Alex’ angry voice echoed through her head, but Natalia kept ignoring her.

“Can’t you just shoot the lock?” The girl asked innocently, causing Claire to chuckle.

“That wouldn’t be very clever,” she said and turned her head to Natalia and winked. “This entire door and its lock can’t just be shot open, not even with a revolver.” She laughed and focused on the task again. “The bullet would most probably ricochet, maybe hurt one of us, and the door would still be closed. I can’t believe Barry didn’t teach you that.”

Natalia giggled.

“Barry doesn’t let me play with guns,” she said as she looked at the revolver in her hand. “I think it’s because of what happened to Moira.”

Claire sighed as her cold fingers kept working on the lock. It was being really tricky.

“Yeah, he still blames himself for leaving his guns lying around. I’m glad they recovered their relationship.” She yelped a bit as her wrist began to hurt from the tension of applying rotational pressure to the lock while she worked on moving the inner pins into the right position. Jill would have done it in a matter of seconds. “You know what?” Claire turned back to Natalia without letting go of the tools. “When we’re out, I will teach you how to shoot someday. When Barry is too busy to notice, if possible.”

Natalia laughed a little.

“That would be nice,” she giggled. “You’ll be a cool mom, Claire.”

Those words hurt unexpectedly much. Even if she was still pregnant, once she got out Rebecca wouldn’t let her continue her pregnancy and she would lose Leon’s child for good. That is if it was still Leon’s. She shivered at the thought. God knows what happened in the time she had been unconscious, and given what she had seen on the video, it could be perfectly Vång’s. Claire shook her head and focused on the lock again. It was definitely not the right time to think about the pregnancy and neither did she want to concern Natalia, nor to give Alex Wesker the pleasure of knowing how much she and her fucking virus had messed up her body and life.

“Because Vång said earlier that he had saved your child as well, is that right?” Natalia asked excitedly, at which the redhead could only hum softly before the girl kept the conversation going. “That’s great. I’m so happy for you. Have you chosen names already?”

Claire didn’t know how to respond. Trying to act naturally, she forced a smile.

“It’s a bit too early for, don’t you think?” She sighed. “When I got abducted, we were far from knowing if it’s a boy or a girl. And we first have to focus on everybody’s well-being.”

Natalia seemed to understand; she nodded and coughed up some blood.

“I just thought you had chosen options,” she said. “Barry once told me that Moira would have been Brandon if she’d been a boy. Imagine that! Brandon Burton!”

Despite feeling awkward, Claire couldn’t help but laugh at the girl’s comment. Moira was really lucky to have been born a girl, she thought.

“I hope Kathy would have stopped him from calling his son Brandon.” She levered the hairpin a little lower down and heard how another of the lock’s pins clicked. Good.

Natalia sighed faintly behind her.

“I like Andrew. You can use that name if you don’t have own ideas for your baby. I give it to you,” she whispered, causing Claire to smile in regret as she understood. The reason why Natalia wouldn’t drop the uncomfortable subject wasn’t actually the happiness over Claire’s unborn child, but the sadness of knowing she would never have children herself. The teenager coughed again and Claire felt her grieve. She couldn’t tell the girl, but when it came to motherhood their both conditions were hopeless. After recovering breath, Natalia smiled warmly and spoke again. “And for the girl, Hannah.”

“Hannah,” Claire’s voice came out as a soft whisper as she kept working on the lock. No matter whose kid was growing inside of her and even though that kid would never see daylight, children deserved to have a name. “I like it.” When the last pins clicked into place and the lock started to turn she yelped in excitement and looked at Natalia.  “Got it. Shall we?”

The girl nodded and let Claire help her onto her feet. Giving the long, dark hallway one last victorious glance, the two women disappeared behind the door and shut it.

* * *

 

Meeting up with Jill would be harder than he had imagined. Every door Leon opened brought another disappointment, empty rooms, obstructed paths or simply more halls and doors; some of them locked. The sophisticated construction some architect had surely won a prize for was giving him one hell of a time. Every now and then he contacted Jill to make sure they weren’t running into opposite directions, which nobody could guarantee anyway. However, they were now covering a bigger area than before; it might even have been helpful to split up.

“I’ve just found a staircase,” Jill’s voice echoed through the line. “Looks like there are several underground floors.”

“Such a huge basement construction must have a strong ventilation system,” he mumbled into the speaker as his eyes scanned the hall for grates. “Keep an eye on the air duct, Jill. You never know what might hide inside.”

“I will. I’m going down now. I’ll call you back soon.” With those words she ended the call.

Leon felt he had walked for years when he opened the next door and another dark hall unfolded before him. It was cold, dusty and it smelled like backwater in the summer sun. On top of that, his flashlight started to fail.

“Look, the B.S.A.A. has the same flashlight provider as the D.S.O., it seems,” he cursed, hitting the lamp softly against his palm. Bigger devices had been repaired the same magical way. In his case, though, it killed it for good. “Fantastic.”

At least his phone was still working. Shining the screen light into the room before him, he advanced slowly. One could never know when they’d be attacked by another B.O.W., but that was by far not the only reason to keep all senses on the scenario. The room resembled the reception hall they had found when they’d entered the hotel, as it reached over two floors with a long stairway leading up to the second stage; nothing more than a wooden gallery from where one would have a wonderful view of the floor below. That is if it wasn’t coated in darkness. The walls were covered with stone and old shelves and seemed to imitate an old wine cellar. As Leon walked quietly through the hall, he spotted a figure flying up the mezzanine.

“Ada!” Leon started sprinting through the hall and towards the stairs as he watched Ada approach the first door on her right. If he didn’t hurry she would, once again, flee without any explanation, and he couldn’t afford letting her leave without giving him answers. Running as fast as he could, he soon made it to the stairs. He needed answers. “Come back!”

The stairs squeaked when he put his feet onto them; a sound that could have woken the dead if Umbrella hadn’t taken care of that already. However, Leon didn’t flinch; not even when the third or fourth stair gave in and broke under his weight. He just kept running.

Ada had already opened the door, checking her phone one last time before she would disappear again. He didn’t have much time left. He couldn’t let her leave. Because of Claire, he couldn’t let Ada leave. He couldn’t.

“Leon!”

 _I can’t._ With those words still on his mind, he decreased his pace upwards the stairs until he came to stop. That voice; he knew it. It was unusually shrill, but familiar. It couldn’t be. His eyes jumped to Ada, who had stopped running and was now glaring down at the ground floor below, her phone casting both light and shadows onto her face.

“Leon!”

His heart hammered hard against his ribcage as he turned around and laid his eyes on her.

“Claire.”

He wouldn’t believe what he saw. He had expected to find her as dead as the last time he had seen her. Dead like rotten; like burnt; like not moving; like not speaking anymore. However, there she stood in the darkness of the room, only the weak light of his phone shining on her, and she looked, smelled and sounded very alive. He watched her in the shadows and all his senses began to remember. He remembered the sound of her voice, that tender look on her face, the stubborn glance he had always admired so much — until the day she’d died.

Because she was dead.

Intuitively, Leon laid his hand onto his gun as his eyes kept locked on her.

None of them dared say a word to break the ice. Claire held her breath as she saw the hesitance on Leon’s face and it felt like someone hit her in the chest with a wrecking ball. She needed him to hold her; tell her everything would be alright, but what she got instead was cold rejection. What the fuck was wrong with the world? She had, by far, gone through enough shit that day to be forced to see her husband standing there in doubt; so close and yet so far away. Holding back tears, she lowered her head to take a look at herself in the gloomy light of his phone screen and what she saw shocked her to the bone. Her slender, rather skinny body was still wrapped in that awful, blood-soaked nightgown and her fingers kept curling tightly around the handle of the ax. Claire shook her head and looked at Leon again. He had to be horribly confused.

Without any more doubt, she tossed the ax away and threw up her both hands in defeat.

“It’s me, darling,” she said in a soft voice full of hope as she fought the tears back down. “It’s me, and I’m unarmed.”

She could see a million questions flash behind those narrowed eyes of his as he shook his head in disbelief. “But...”

The world around him stopped existing. He just stood there and kept staring at the bloody something that claimed to be Claire, and that nearly died of the pain of having to convince him. What was he doing there? He wanted to run to her, hold her, kiss her and never let go of her again, but something stopped him from believing. If this was a dream, why was he doubting? If he was dead, why wouldn’t he just follow her into the light?

But he knew he wasn’t dead or dreaming, and he had just seen too much to simply believe it was his wife and not just the shell of her.

“If you’re Claire,” he said and began walking down the stairs. “Tell me something only she knows.”

Claire sobbed a little, but she understood. Even she herself had started to disbelieve that she was still Claire; how could she expect Leon to accept it without a doubt? Leon, who had watched her die; who had stayed with her until she was gone. Two tiny tears flowed down her cheeks as she nodded and took a step towards him.

“You are ticklish in three spots of your body,” she said, smiling shyly. “Under the right armpit, following a line over your ribs down to your hip; but only on the right.” She smiled widely as she remembered the hours she had spent trying to tickle him in different places of his body to find the exact spots where he was vulnerable to soft caresses. “On your inner thighs; both of them; and between your toes.” Exhaling deeply, she nodded again.  

Leon clenched his teeth a little. That was confirmation enough, he fought back some tears, but couldn’t stop his eyes from watering.

“Claire…”

“I also know that I didn’t wear any panties during our wedding ceremony,” she said rolling her eyes a little. “You had kept them in your pocket after we were almost caught by the guests as we were…” She coughed. “Killing time waiting for Chris.”

They couldn’t stop smiling. Little by little they had reduced the distance between them to one foot, maybe two, and were now staring deeply into each other’s eyes. The phone dropped to the floor as Leon jumped down the last stair and pulled Claire into his arms. And there she stayed.

“You were dead, Claire,” he whispered, panting his breath over her temple. “You died. I was there. You were dead, Claire.”

She whimpered a bit as she nuzzled his neck.

“He brought me back,” Claire whispered out a painful gasp. “Vång.”

He ran his hands over her face and hair like a blind man. His breathing was shallow as he slowly started to understand that it was real; that _she_ was real. He was closer to tears than he would have ever admitted, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered; no Ada, no Jill; definitely no Chris and none of his accusations. Everything he needed was right there with him, covered in sweat and blood and with messy hair. Claire was back and it felt like she had never been gone. Like in his dreams. He rubbed his nose into her hair and kissed her ear, before he pulled back and looked into her eyes again. Swallowing down the knot in his throat, Leon sobbed a little and finally leaned into her.

He kissed her in the middle of the battlefield that was the abandoned hotel, and it was the best kiss she’d ever had. Claire granted herself that moment of peace, love and serenity. They just stood there with their lips pressed onto each other’s and their arms slung tightly around their bodies. And as if they could stay like that forever, they were almost, almost oblivious to what was going on around them.

 

* * *

 

 Ada had stood next to the door, witnessing their reunion. A part of her felt happy for Leon. Lucky that the boy who had walked into Raccoon City hadn’t been smashed, tortured and killed through years of training and fighting and that he hadn’t exhausted his source of hope by giving it to others too often. He deserved to be happy and see his dreams fulfilled, but no matter how often she had chosen her job over him, it still hurt that he hadn’t included her in his wishes for a normal life. Tired of watching, Ada slowly turned the handle and disappeared into the darkness of the hotel alone.

 


	21. The Here

" _Claire."_

_For one second, she had believed it had all been in vain. She had made her way through an overrun Raccoon City; had left Leon and Sherry behind; and had gotten caught after infiltrating the Umbrella facilities in France. She had survived so much; on that grotesque Island and the freezing facility in Antarctica. She had fought and destroyed that long-armed, blind monster, and yet, when she saw that snake-thing following them through the snow, Claire had known it was the end; that she would never see Chris again._

_She had dreamt of their childhood; their family trips into the woods. They had been so happy before their parents had died. After their horrible accident, it hadn't been easy for Chris and herself, but they had survived. But now; now she was dead, too._

" _Claire."_

_She opened her eyes and she was still dreaming, wasn't she? Chris was right in front of her; and she wasn't cold anymore._

" _Chris," she whispered and it hurt. Throwing her arms around her brother, she slowly realized that she wasn't dreaming; she wasn't dead either. "I missed you so much."_

_Leon had made it. It was ridiculous. How much time had passed since she had sent him her location? She herself had been searching for Chris for three months and hadn't found him, but Leon had. Leon had saved her again; after she had left him alone with Sherry, he had still helped her. Claire huffed into Chris' shoulder as she embraced him._

_She definitely owed Leon one._

* * *

**\- XIX -**

**The Here**

Claire wasn't sure for how long she had been standing there in Leon's arms and she began to wonder if she'd ever care again. His breath felt warm on her forehead; his arms, tight and protective around her shoulders. After all the happenings of the previous hours, all the doubts Vång had tried to infect her with and all the fear for her loved ones, she finally felt that her efforts were leading somewhere. Leon had come, and he would take her out of that place.

Because Leon had always been her harbor, her safe room. No matter how far he had been, he had been there with her. Good friends they had been all their life; all their life within bioterrorism. Through all their ups and downs, heartbreaks, failures, adventures, more heartbreaks and nights of pizza and beer; they had built a bond that was too hard to ever break. Trust was what had always united them, because, it seemed, you would never trust anyone more than the first living person you found in a town full of undead. She trusted Leon more than she trusted Chris – in some issues.

And how could she possibly not trust him? Leon Kennedy was a one-man-show, the one the government sent when things went really, really to shit. Spain? They had sent him. Harvardville? They had sent him. He would have gotten her off Sushestvovanie if she hadn't gotten off on her own; and he was getting her out now. She rubbed her cheek into his chest and sighed.

"I'm here," he whispered and, yes, he was. He was there. She wasn't sure what he was doing there; if he had come to rescue her, but he surely hadn't known she was alive again. She smirked. He was so brave. Herself? She hadn't let her fear control her when it had threatened her life; but Leon? Leon simply laughed at fear, kicked it in the guts and kept walking. He was there; of course, he was there.

"I know," she whispered. "I can hear your heart beating."

Leon laughed and for the first time in two months it didn't feel like betrayal. There was no guilt in it; just joy and freedom. He softly stroked her hair.

"Maybe I should get us something to light this place up so we don't have to recognize each other by the sound of our heart beat. Extremely romantic, but not very comfy. Just saying."

She chuckled and loved him for his apparent carefreeness. It was exactly what she needed to remain steady. They would get out of there and she would enjoy burning the place down, making sure Vång was reduced to ashes.

"Claire!" Footsteps approached them and made the redhead turn. Natalia had stayed behind, resting a bit in the darkness of the room while Claire had run after Leon. She walked up the stairs and took the woman's hand. "Now everything will be alright."

Leon stared in shock at the braided girl.

"Natalia?" He frowned and turned back to Claire. "Is there anyone else trapped in here?"

She shook her head.

"Just us two," she answered, turning her head to Natalia. "Nobody else."

He wanted to ask questions; hundreds of them. He didn't. Shrugging off any discomfort, Leon just nodded, leaving any talks for later. It wasn't the best time to ask question anyway. As the man turned away and searched for his phone on the floor, the women exchanged short glances.

The pressure lingering in her lungs made its way up to her throat as she felt Alex' presence in her rise.

' _She will tell them.'_

Natalia held a steady gaze on Claire as the voice rambled through her ears.

"No, she won't."

Brows lifted, Claire watched her in the darkness. She couldn't imagine what the girl was going through; how it was to share body and thoughts with another being – especially if that other being was someone who wore the name  _Wesker_  like it was some sort of medal. The girl in front of her twisted and turned.

' _Vång said she can be killed now. You should kill her before she tells Barry.'_

Alex' words ticked inside her head like a clockwork; like a ping-pong ball bouncing up and down. Funny at first, it moved from slightly annoying to deadly disturbing after a while. Natalia bored the nails of her free hand into her scalp as she bowed.

"Shut up!" She turned around and pushed the barrel of the revolver against her chin. "Shut up or I will blow my brains away. I swear to god. Alex, I will blow you away."

It was awkward; it was frightening and pitiful; but, most of all, it was loud enough for Leon to notice if Natalia kept muttering her threats as she convulsed. Claire quickly pressed her hand onto the girl's mouth and removed the gun from her hand.

"Natalia!" she hissed. "Natalia, listen to me."

Claire's soft voice had the opposite effect Alex' words had had on her, and after the hateful messages had triggered her own wrath, serenity came quickly. Natalia opened her eyes and searched for Claire's gaze in the dark. The redhead looped her arms around her shoulders and squeezed.

"It's alright. You are stronger than her."

"There you are!" Leon had found his phone on the floor and turned around to shine some light onto the stairs. "I will have to call Jill."

After patting Natalia's shoulder one last time, Claire stood up and turned to Leon.

"Jill?"

A nod.

"We came together, but lost track of each other after we were attacked by a B.O.W. on the upper floor. Don't worry, she's fine."

Claire blinked at him. They had come together; but had they also come alone? She felt her heart throbbing up into her throat as she tried to articulate the question for a fearful truth.

"Is Chris here as well?"

Leon looked into her eyes and shook his head.

"No, he isn't. Jill and I came alone."

Claire blew out a breath.

"Are you sure?" she whispered and walked back to Leon. "Darling, Chris can't come. He wants him. This? This is a trap. If he comes he will kill him. He will kill him."

_Vång wants Chris._

Jill's words popped into his head as he watched Claire's doubtful glance. He slowly repeated his headshake.

"Chris is not here, believe me. He doesn't know. Jill didn't tell him because she knew this was a trap," he spoke softly as he approached her and put his hands onto her shoulders. "We came alone, okay? She knew it."

Claire nodded softly and closed her eyes in relief.

"I'm sorry," she said chuckling nervously. "I didn't mean to mistrust."

He smiled at her and nodded before he dialed Jill's number.

"Give me a second," he told Claire as he pressed the phone to his ear. "Jill! Listen." He gave Claire a wide, proud smile as he spoke to the woman on the line. "I found Claire. And she's alive."

* * *

"She's what?" Jill feigned her excitement. Even though there was still a slight chance that the footage had been a fake, she had expected to find her sister-in-law among the living again. "But… is she infected?"

"At least, she's not turned," Leon said. "She's alright, don't worry. Natalia Burton is here as well. Where are you? We should get out of here."

Jill frowned.

"Natalia is here?" Jill asked confused, but decided to dismiss the thought and handle those details later. "Anyway, we need to get out of here, yes. I think it's useless now to get even further down, isn't it? Let's find a way up and out."

"I will keep searching," Leon said in agreement. "Let's keep in touch and communicate as soon as we find something. Take care."

"You too," she said and hung up. Jill took a look around and tried to remember where she had found the stairs to an upper floor when a noise from behind one of the closest doors caught her attention. With one hand on her rifle she slowly pushed the door open, following the noise – further downstairs.

The corridor she found behind it was long and dark, but her flashlight showed her clearly that a battle had taken place there. Blood was everywhere, on the carpet on the ground, the walls, even floating in the air. What exactly had happened there? She knelt down and picked up a wet cloth. Examining it closely, it looked like a sleeve, with drawn stitches on one end and a nicely finished bindings on the other. Jill grimaced and looked further down the corridor. There was a door at the end and a soft light shone through it. Instinctively, she checked her ammunition, got back onto her feet and followed the hall towards the light.

The stairs were slick and moist, mostly stained with blood as the corridor had been. Whoever said that after so many years in the business one got used to the smell of it was either lying or had no idea what they were talking about, because the stench of human blood would always make her flinch like it had the first time. Not to mention the convulsion it gave you when it was mixed with the sound of grunting zombies which, luckily, wasn't this case. Jill slowly descended the stairs, her hands holding on tightly to the rifle, as she advanced towards the light. The door to the underground lab had been kicked and the bright light came from downstairs along with the clicking and snapping sounds of metal tools. Jill held the assault rifle ready when she decidedly walked into the room, freezing immediately. So, that was why Vång wanted Chris.

"Wesker!" She sucked in a breath as she saw her darkest nightmare coming true; their archenemy pickled in a glass container. Next to him there stood a man with another well-known face – the same face.

"Oh, hello! What a huge surprise!" Vång exclaimed laughing. "It's been a while, Officer Valentine. To what do I owe the honor?"

Jill's attention was drawn to him and she raised her rifle.

"Fritjof Vång, you're arrested. Put your hands where I can see them," she shouted, but Vång just chuckled shortly, before he turned to the container Wesker was kept in. "Are you deaf? I said put your hands up."

The scientist just ignored her orders, cheerily whistling as he took up some tools.

"I must say," he said as he stopped whistling, "I expected your dear husband to come. But you will be a wonderful gift for the Master anyway." He slowly turned back to Jill and smirked right before a couple of bullets hit his forehead.

How often had his head been attacked that day? Three times? Four? Plus, another shot Alex Wesker had given his neck two months before. But no matter how many attacks he could resist and recover from, the impact still caused Vång to tremble and fall. Holding on to the table next to him, he sunk to his knees, soon attacked again by Valentine, who came running towards him and kicked him in the side.

"I'll show you what a beautiful gift is." She drove her heel into his neck and made him scream. She would make him pay for everything he had done and for everything he was planning. "Game over, Vång."

Jill hadn't hesitated a second after firing at Vång, as if she had expected him to recover from the shot wounds, but even so, it frightened her to see how quickly the flesh tangled and closed over the bone and the scientist began to move, chuckling under her foot. She frowned in disgust at first, but soon shook alarmed.

Something bubbled loudly in the tank behind her.

* * *

Chris suddenly remembered what grandparents were good for. It was hard to find a selfless, quick and available babysitter for Summer at 3 am as Samantha, the girl next door, was currently out of town. The rest of the neighbors in the street were cranky old people who would only do them a favor if Claire asked very politely - bringing a cake or cookies as a reward. Since her death there weren't any more cookies or cakes in the house. That was another thing grandparents were good for.

He hadn't wanted to ask the Burtons, who he knew had spent the whole day in the hospital with Natalia and were surely exhausted. Luckily, Amanda seemed to love and adore everything related to him, being Jill the only exception. They had met at the B.S.A.A. headquarter so he could leave Summer with her and take the chance to grab some weapons.

He wasn't surprised to see that the emergency storage he and Jill had put up together for urgencies like this was empty. Fortunately, Rory Williams had been on duty that night and could gather him some armory and ammunition. He had also promised to organize a small group and follow him a little later. Men like Rory, reliable and able to keep their mouth shut when it was needed, were exactly the kind of soldiers he wanted in his team. Williams would someday make a wonderful captain.

Someday.

Chris rushed up the hill to the hotel, braking sharply when he spotted Jake observing the entrance. The red-haired man in the dark jacket turned around as Chris got out of the car.

"Redfield," he complained. "I thought you'd bring a chopper." Catching the shotgun Chris tossed at him like it was a frisbee. "I kinda have a bad feeling."

* * *

A mad, immortal scientist under her feet; a dangerous, even madder scientist behind her.

And there weren't enough bullets in the room — nor in the whole state— to bring both of them down.

Jill swallowed, her look tightly set on Vång, as she heard the creature in the container behind her move. Vång was still recovering from the headshot, his skin slowly peeling back over the hole in his forehead. Jill could already see the triumphant smirk on the face below. A second later, she heard him as well.

"It's fulfilled!" He howled in excitement, only pushing Jill's heartbeat up. "He is back!"

Something knocked violently against the walls of the glass container, but she didn't dare turn and look.

Was it the anxiety of the enemy's familiar eyes on her? The worry of the memories she had already thought overcome? Or was it the terror of seeing what the monster she and Chris had used to call  _captain_  had turned into?

The thought held her mind and captive and her body refused to react. Vång kept laughing under her boot. The knocking persisted; even got louder. Sweat ran down her forehead as she begged her body to move and her mind to react. Maybe Leon was right; maybe she wasn't ready.

The thing kept knocking and Jill knew what was about to come. Another knock on the tank. Another one, and glass shattered all around her. It was the moment the container broke; the moment Albert Wesker was set free, and the moment her body started responding again.

The bullets bored into Fritjof Vång's throat and face and through his brains. Shot, once again, in the head, the scientist stopped laughing as his blood splashed over the ground and became one with the conservation liquid that poured from the broken container and flooded the room. Jill jumped forward, ready to watch what was behind her. The bullets wouldn't keep Vång out of action for too long, but it would give her a little time to analyze what she was facing.

She turned and was confronted with the face of evil. Wesker had crawled out of the container and was now kneeling in front of it, with low head, getting used to the impact of fresh air in his lungs.

"How does it feel like to be among humans again?" She whispered, inaudible to his hears.

Angrily, she reloaded the rifle with shivering hands and aimed the weapon at the gasping being in front of her. She could shoot twice causing Wesker to groan in rage and turn his head up. He didn't move, he just kept staring at her. The look on his face expressed confusion, as if he didn't know where he was or who he was.

"Chris!"

Okay, maybe he did remember who he was, being just a little confused about the where. Before she could shoot again, Wesker threw his arm — or whatever that long limb full of tentacles he had instead of an arm was — into her direction. An attack she dodged with a quick backflip. He groaned, his eyes glowing brightly as he knelt down.

"Jill."

It was an image she had never believed to see someday. It was Albert Wesker, high on Uroboros, alive and so utterly bewildered that one could only pity him.

"Well done, Jill." His voice was calm and dark as she remembered it. Wesker put his arm on the ground and pushed himself up slowly. "I knew you would resist. Let go of feelings." The ground trembled as he put his feet on it and stood up. "Let go of humanity. And get rid of Chris and his little friend."

Jill felt her heart beat in her throat. Resist what? Chris and his friend?

"Sheva?" she whispered astonished to herself as she understood what was happening. It seemed Wesker believed he had survived the battle in the volcano in Kijuju nearly seven years before. The grip around the rifle tightened. He tilted his head.

"You were always the strongest." Step by step, he walked towards her, while she stood still, her mind running through the weapons she carried and if there was any that could stop him, or at least slow him down. "And you always challenged me. You've overcome the P30, haven't you?" He smirked maliciously as he attacked her. "You are magnificent!"

She could avoid falling victim to the mutated arm he punched into her direction by rolling to her side. On one knee, Jill began firing at the mutation as he stepped closer.

"Jill, don't turn against your creator. You can be part of the new world. You are valid."

Two more strikes. She managed to hit Wesker twice more before he reached her, causing him to groan as the dark, wormy tentacles that covered his chest revealed the golden core that lay underneath. That was her chance. Maybe this way she could stop him; at least for a while. She quickly grabbed her combat knife and jumped up, running with the lifted blade towards her target. She had almost reached him when something tackled her to her side.

She rolled, cursed and gasped in anger as she looked up and saw Vång standing protectively in front of Wesker, who was still mumbling nonsense. Apparently, coming back from the dead was a hard struggle even for someone like him.

Vång panted heavily, standing straight and smiling proudly as he pressed his hand onto his chest.

"Don't fear, Master." It seemed to Jill he had lost his mind for good now, when he pulled out a gun and aimed for her. "I will take care of her."

Jill quickly fired into his direction, causing him to jerk back, bump into Wesker, and fail his first shot as she rolled over the ground and leaped onto her feet. Vång tried to step forward, but the tentacles on Wesker's body had taken hold of him.

"Not Jill!" Wesker screamed as he launched his arm through Vång's chest, almost breaking him in two. The cracking sound of his breaking rib cage filled the room and caused Jill to shiver. Vång screamed in pain as Uroboros' distinctive wormy mass advanced over his body, consuming him.

"Master!" He started laughing as the tentacles reached his throat. "Take from me whatever you please!"

After staring at the abomination in front of her for too long, Jill decided she wouldn't waste any more time trying to remember if she had ever seen something so disgusting in her whole career. She needed to stop him - them - that thing. Every bullet shot into the consuming B.O.W. was lost somewhere inside of the mass. Disappointedly, she noticed that she wasn't carrying any grenades with her and cursed herself for not being provident enough. However, on the table next to her she found bottles filled with different liquids. Ripping them open and smelling what sort of substances she had available, she soon recognized the high-grade alcohol she had been searching for. The fabric of an old lab coat would become a wonderful fuse, she thought. She knew everything about firebombs, as the failure of a man she'd had for a father had often sung her lullabies about the ingredients of a Molotov cocktail when she'd been a kid. While she filled the bottles with the alcohol and soaked the cloth, she remembered how Claire used to tell horror stories to Summer as well. The thought made her frown as she stared at the firebomb.

Maybe Dick hadn't been such a bad father after all.

Only one arm was left of Vång when Jill turned back to the massive creature Wesker had become absorbing the other scientist. Their archenemy stood straight as the tentacles emerging from his body reached out for the man in front of him and feasted. Uroboros needed feeding after such a long time in the afterlife, and it was ready to consume. And, oh, how it consumed. She grimaced in disgust as she saw the ugly tentacles grasp the body of the other man. One thing was clear; Vång was no longer a problem. Immortal scientist number one - eliminated. Now she only had to take care of scientist number two. She watched the firebomb in her hand and took a deep breath. Uroboros was considered vulnerable to heat, but Vång had probably given Wesker the same regenerative substance that had cured himself from that headshot right in front of her eyes.

Human. She somehow needed to make them both human again. That is, if that was even possible. She raised her hand, ready to throw her handmade firebomb against Wesker. It had to work.

He had never been really human anyway.

* * *

It was surprising how close to the surface they had already been. After leaving the room where they had met, Leon, Claire and Natalia entered another dark hallway and soon found heavy metal door slides.

"An elevator!" Claire yelled excitedly as she inspected the doors trying to find a way to open them. "This might be our way out."

Leon nodded and tried the most obvious thing to do; he pushed the button. Unfortunately, nothing happened. Claire lifted a brow at him and smirked until he shrugged.

"Why make it hard if there is a chance it's easy?" With those words he took out his knife and pushed the blade between the two wings, while Claire and Natalia gave each other amused glances.

Claire remembered the doors in the warehouse and how hard it had been for her to pry them open. It looked so easy now that Leon was working on the elevator doors. Once the shaft lay open in front of them, the man shone his flashlight into the darkness.

"The cabin seems to be stuck on some higher floors," he said turning his head to the right to see better. "But I think we can climb up the ropes. As far as I see the next is the ground floor."

Those were some of the best news Claire had gotten that night. She took a deep breath.

"Can you go first, darling? I don't think I have enough strength to break open the door while I hang from a steel wire rope."

Leon nodded and pointed at the 329 Magnum revolver in her hands.

"If anything shows up here-" he said.

"It will be the last thing it did," Claire replied smiling widely, at what Leon laughed a little. Yeah, that was his girl; steady and strong in front of any danger. He cupped her chin and placed the tiniest of kisses onto her lips, hoping that, whatever might come after them would be easy enough to kill with a Magnum. For himself, he hoped he'd have enough with a 9mm handgun. Leon turned back to the elevator, grabbed the rope and jumped into the shaft, tightly gripping the ropes with his hands, knees and feet, as Claire and Natalia watched out for any enemies. It didn't take him too long to reach the next floor. With his left arm and leg tightly wrapped around the rope, he slammed the knife into the slot of the door and slowly levered it open.

"Got it!" He shouted as he managed to push his arm and foot between the door slides. "We're almost out."

"Alright!" Claire turned to Natalia and put a hand onto the girl's shoulder. "You're next. Come on, I help you."

Natalia couldn't stop looking at Claire in awe. She had caused so much trouble to the redhead and her family by letting Alex Wesker run her body like a willing machine, but even so, Claire was helping her out. Natalia smiled as she nodded shortly.

"Thank you, Claire."

The older woman smiled comfortingly as she put her hand onto Natalia's shoulder.

"You're welcome."

* * *

Once he had managed to open the door, Leon checked quickly if any enemies were waiting for him on the ground floor. Fortunately, the hall seemed empty and he couldn't have been more relieved as he saw that he was standing in the reception hall.

"We're out," he whispered to himself and was about to grab his phone and call Jill when the sound of gunshots caught his attention. He didn't have to dodge much to avoid being hit by the bullets that swooshed past him, impacting on the wall behind. It was as if the shooter had been missing him on purpose.

"Kennedy!"

Leon jumped up and stared into the rage-filled eyes of Chris Redfield in his B.S.A.A. uniform, heavily armed and driven by wrath. The older man ran towards him and before Leon could find the right words to stop him, Chris tackled him and pushed him onto the floor.

"Where is Jill?"

Leon coughed and shook his head. This was getting ridiculously absurd.

"Chris, what the fuck?"

But no one 'what the fuck'-ed Chris Redfield. He stood up and put his boot onto Leon's chest, treading it down until the former agent groaned in pain.

"Where is Jill?" Chris howled. "Kennedy, damnit! First you lose my sister and now you risk my wife's life by bringing her into a shithole like this?"

Leon frowned and then began to laugh as much as the pressure on his chest would let him, leaving Chris speechless.

"You're getting it all wrong, Chris," Leon exhaled. "One, she is the one who brought me along; and two," he gave the man above a threatening look. "If you want to know where she is why don't you call her?"

And Chris' eyes filled with rage again.

"You lie! Why the fuck would Jill come here by free will?"

Leon's gaze warmed as footsteps sounded behind Chris.

"They came because of me."

As he watched Chris' expression, Leon tried to remember if he had ever seen Big Redfield that shell-shocked. Maybe the day Claire had told him she was pregnant? Yes, that came pretty close. It was a mix of disbelief, jealousy and hope; a lot of hope.

Chris left Leon lying on the floor as he turned around and watched the person who had just called out for him. Tears shot into his eyes as he swallowed hard and sobbed quietly.

"Claire."

"Chris," the redhead replied in the same tone as she took another step forward and stood in front of him. She had missed him so much. Now, more than ever, she needed her big brother. Claire threw her arms around Chris and sobbed loudly into his chest as he embraced her.

"I was told you were dead," he cried. He didn't care if Claire or Leon or anyone else saw him cry. His little sister was back and he let emotions run freely; and Claire loved him for it.

"And I was, Chris," she whispered in relief. He was so surprised to see her. Was there a chance he hadn't seen the video Vång had sent him? Had the scientist been lying to her to see how far he could push her? She sobbed quietly into Chris' chest. There were so many things left to say, but she'd find a way to do that later. "I was."

When Natalia had climbed up the ropes she had found Chris bent over Leon and had quickly helped Claire out of the shaft. Seeing the two siblings reunited made her think of Moira, Barry, Kathy and Polly and of how much she'd like to go home. Luckily, they were almost out.

' _Heartbreaking,'_  she heard Alex mumble in her head in a sarcastic tone, and Natalia was sure that her own reunion with her brother wouldn't have been half as emotional as Claire's meeting with Chris. Redfield: 1; Wesker: 0. Natalia chuckled as she heard Alex grunt at her thought.

She heard footsteps coming from the left and turned her head. Jake Muller was there, too.

"Redfield?" he asked, almost in concern, as he approached Chris, but suddenly stopped when he saw who it was Chris was holding. "Claire?"

The female redhead wiped the tears from her eyes as she turned to the young mercenary.

"Jake," she sniffed. "What are you doing here?"

The young man shook his head in disbelief and caused Claire to chuckle a bit. Everybody expected the bad guys to come back from the dead, but when the same happened to one from their own side, it apparently surpassed all their imaginations.

"He was the one who told me Jill and Leon were here," Chris whispered. "He followed them to this place."

Jake shrugged his astonishment off and rolled his eyes.

"I was secretly hoping they were having an affair and wanted to see Redfield's reaction."

The air around them seemed to freeze as Chris' narrowed eyes turned to Leon, who was removing the dust from his sleeves. He replied with another angry gaze.

"I swear to god, Chris, if you try to punch me again for an imaginary affair you think I'm having with your wife I shoot you."

Chris clenched his fists as he breathed to calm himself down. He had been blinded by his rage and fury for too long already; it was time to let go of it. He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and turned back to Claire, who was giving him a warm but chiding glance.

"I think you owe Leon an apology."

Chris smirked defeatedly and turned back to his brother-in-law, who was pouting like an angry child. Leon had, once again, been the key to reunite him with his sister; just like back in 1998, when he had sent him her location on Rockfort Island.

"Well, I'm…" Chris' attempt to apologize was interrupted by the sound of Leon's phone. The blond man looked down at the screen and smirked as he answered and put on the loudspeaker.

"Jill!" He called as he answered. A loud gasp rang from the phone and startled them all. Chris took a step toward Leon and yelled into the phone.

"Jill! What's happening? Where are you?"

The female voice on the other end of the line yelped a bit when she heard her husband speak.

"Chris? What…? Oh lord, no." She panted heavily. It sounded like she was running. Claire, Natalia and Jake came closer and stood in circle around the device in Leon's hand. "Anyway, no time to explain. Get heavy artillery. I'm leading him up."

Chris frowned.

"Him?"

Leon ground his teeth.

"Vång?" he asked and attracted a confused glance from Chris, who proved to have an excellent memory of the B.S.A.A.'s register of past enemies and villains.

"You mean Fritjof Vång?" he asked frowning. "The guy Jill locked away some years ago?"

The speaker cracked and rumbled again before Jill spoke again.

"No. Not Vång," she gasped. "Wesker!"

Chris grimaced in shock as he heard the familiar name. He looked at Leon, who seemed almost frozen in shock. Jake needed a minute to digest the information as well. According to Jill Valentine, his infamous father was alive and chasing her through the stairway of that abandoned hotel, and he felt confronted with a past he had never known. Jill's call was cut and Chris swallowed.

Only Claire and Natalia weren't surprised. Claire clenched her teeth and took the teenager's hand.

"He made it," she whispered, and Chris turned to her.

"What is happening here, Claire?"

Her look dropped as she put a hand on her chest.

"He took the T-Phobos from me," she said in a low voice, almost shivering from guilt. "The virus he used to relive me didn't seem to work on Wesker, so he took my T-Phobos to achieve that."

"What?" Leon took a step forward. "How does the T-Phobos do that?"

"Actually, when we were first abducted, he wanted to see if he could do the mind transfer like Alex Wesker had tried," Natalia interrupted the conversation.

"So, that was the reason he took you?" Leon glared at Claire and ground his teeth. So, it had been the T-Phobos again; the virus that threatened his everything. How often had he wished he could bring Neil Fisher back to life only to kill him off again for everything he had done? From sleeping with his wife; even though she hadn't even been his girlfriend back then; to selling his teammates to a terrorist and getting them infected only to get one cheap Uroboros sample. Even five years after Sushestvovanie Island, the few survivors were still suffering because of Fisher and Alex Wesker, and Leon hated them both for it. Claire forced a smile and took his hand.

"He must have had access to Alex Wesker's files and wanted to repeat the mind transfer; to become the host for Albert Wesker's mind himself. However, he mentioned that the T-Phobos reanimated dead flesh without further mutation and…" She shook her head. "I think he succeeded," she hissed as she turned to Natalia, pain and fear written all over her face.

Natalia held her hand and squeezed it.

"It's not your fault, Claire."

It was a lousy attempt to make her feel better. But anything was good if it helped to distract herself from Alex Wesker's excited laughter reverberating through her head.

' _Yes! Albert is alive!'_

"See why it would have been a good idea to bring the chopper full of rocket launchers, Redfield," Jake hissed, shouldering the shotgun and cocking his head. "Now what?"

Chris frowned and pushed his hand into one of his pockets. He threw his car keys at Jake, who caught them with one hand.

"Get Claire and Natalia out!" The B.S.A.A. Captain hissed, quickly shutting his sister with a serious glance as she tried to protest. "Officer Williams has prepared the weapons. Look what else he has put into the trunk for us."

Claire shook her head.

"No, Chris. That won't help," she muttered as she remembered Vång and the virus that brought people back from the dead – over and over again. What were the right words to tell her brother that this time it would be an impossible task to get rid of the man who had destroyed their all lives? She swallowed. "He is-".

It was all she got to say, because in that moment a throbbing noise coming from below shook them all to the bone. A short quake followed and Natalia had to hold on to Claire not to lose balance and fall.

Leon took out his handgun and unlocked it. It was ridiculously small compared to what the noise suggested was coming for them, and he turned to Jake and grabbed the shotgun the young man was holding.

"I take this," he hissed. "You go and get the weapons from the car."

Jake was about to reply when something moved in the elevator behind them. Chris turned to it, with his assault rifle aiming for whatever would climb out the shaft. He sucked in a breath as he recognized the person in the combat suit.

"Jill."

Gasping, the blonde climbed up the rope before she jumped onto the floor and took a moment to breathe before she looked up.

"Chris," she panted, slightly shaken, then her glance fell onto Claire. "Sweetheart. Oh my god." She walked past the men and pulled her friend into a tight hug. Claire whined a little as she hid her face in Jill's neck.

"I'm alright," she whispered. "I'm good."

Jill pulled back and watched Claire's face to reassure her friend was speaking the truth. Claire was a fighter, but Jill knew too well how frightening it could be to come back from the dead. The two women smiled at each other before the blonde turned to the girl standing next to Claire.


	22. The Since

" _Jill?"_

_Claire was walking up the stairs to the second floor and Summer's nursery, still quietly humming the melody of the jingle that had been annoying the customers of that airport restaurant chain where she and Leon had had lunch together. Her new husband had been asked to return to work as soon as he set foot on US ground again after his honeymoon, which meant that they had a whole thirty minutes together before he'd had to take the next flight. Exhausted and still in her wide-and-warm, comfy airplane clothes, Claire hadn't even stepped by her own apartment before visiting the Redfield residence._

' _I am sorry I can't pick you up, Claire. I am too busy. I haven't been home in days.' Chris' words had been enough for her to snort some rude insults at him before she told the driver to take her to a different place. As she hadn't found Jill nor Summer on the ground floor, she had left the large suitcase in the hall and decided to check if they were upstairs._

" _Jill?"_

_The sound of babbling and sobbing came from the nursery and Claire increased her pace alarmed. When she pushed open the ajar door she found Jill bending over the crib with a large pillow in her hands._

" _Jill, don't!" Claire sprinted forward and grabbed the pillow from the blonde's hands. "What are you doing?"_

_Jill was grimacing in pain as she absently turned her head to Claire._

" _She wouldn't stop crying," she whispered. "I wanted to put her to sleep."_

_Claire checked on Summer, who was still breathing softly in her crib._

" _She's not Jill, look at her. She's not crying. She's awake, but she's not crying." Claire turned her sister-in-law away from the crib and guided her to the armchair on the opposite side of the room. Jill seemed absent, unaware of what was going on around her, just controlled by unexplainable fear and sorrow. Right after dropping into the armchair, she began to sob quietly into her palms._

" _Oh my god, Claire. What have I done?" The sobs broke Claire's heart. She hadn't imagined that Jill would ever be capable of hurting someone — if she wasn't just under Wesker's control, of course. Kneeling next to her, she softly stroked over her friend's forearm._

" _Jill, it's alright. Summer's fine, you haven't hurt her." Claire listened to Jill's soft cries, trying to calm her down. "She's fine. And you will be, too."_

" _Why did they even let me take her home, Claire?" The blonde put her hands down and took a deep breath. "I can't handle a child. I'm a horrible mother. I'm not you. You should have her, Claire. You and Leon. Take her. Please, take her away. I can't do this. I don't belong here."_

_A deep sigh left Claire's lips. She hadn't seen Jill like that before; not even after she'd come back from Kijuju. Back then, Jill had been hurt, broken and a little afraid, but she had managed to keep fighting; not to give up; and that spark inside of her had always shone through. The current situation, however, was turning off that light inside of her and it seemed that Jill Valentine, the fighter, had given up for good. Claire held her hand. She herself had always wanted to have a family on her own and had wished so hard to become a mother that she couldn't imagine how someone could not feel ready for the role._

" _Jill," she whispered. "Since when have you been feeling like this?" The blonde shrugged shyly as her eyes remained locked on the ground. "Have you spoken about this to a doctor?"_

" _No." Jill's soft whisper joined the weak headshake. "I couldn't go out, I didn't want to take Summer out and-" she paused. "And Chris is always working."_

_Claire clenched her teeth at the mention of her irresponsible brother. The man who had practically raised her, who had watched out for her so well, was now miserably failing as a father to his own daughter._

" _How long has Chris been gone?"_

_Jill pursed her lips and closed her eyes._

" _Five days."_

* * *

**\- XXI -**

**The Since**

Those eyes looked like they had once belonged to the devil. It was somehow like back on Rockfort Island, when Claire had encountered Wesker and stared for the first time into those reddish-glowing eyes; only that this time it was much worse. Back then, everything around those eyes had still looked human; now it was the eyes that seemed to be more human than the rest of the body. Claire shivered a little.

Before Wesker or anyone of them could make a move, the rifle in Jill's hands seemed to come to life and fired its bullets against the black mass that somehow wore Wesker's face. He groaned, but the attack didn't keep him from getting up and advancing towards Chris.

Only the loud laughter of a girl made him stop.

Natalia was laughing full-throatedly as she bored her little fingernails into Claire's forearm.

"Beautiful!" It was the only thing Alex managed to howl before Natalia took control over her body again. She covered her lips with her hands as her eyes darted anxiously at Claire, who was checking if the others had become aware of what was happening.

Chris was pointing at Wesker, so concentrated he didn't mind the sweat running into his eyes; Jill had jumped between Wesker and Chris to protect latter; Leon was reloading the shotgun, as he had already emptied it for the first time.

The only one who had turned to Natalia was Jake, but he didn't say a word; nor did he blink. It was stunning to see the young mercenary so speechless. However, it wasn't the girl that had shocked him so much. It was the face of the man he had dreamt of; or run away from; for so many years.

_I love you, Jake. I'm so sorry I have to leave you like this._

The words his mother had written down for him before her death floated back to his mind. He turned back to Wesker, who had recovered some sort of consciousness after Natalia's outburst and was now advancing towards them.

_Forgive me._

Jake had adored his mother, the most caring and intelligent person in the world. But she had been so dumb at once, so blind and stupid. How could someone like his mother be so lost in love with a man like Albert Wesker.

_Please, don't hate your father._

Jake watched the mass of something his progenitor had become. That thing was his father, the man he had despised all his life, and it was threatening pretty much everything Jake cared about.

_I'm sure he loves you._

His mother's written words flashed up in front of his eyes as he watched Wesker's long tentacle arm whip through the room. He hit Chris across the chest and sent him flying through the floor before he turned his attention to him. Without any more hesitation, Wesker threw his arm towards Jake.

_And he's thinking about you._

If it hadn't been for Chris Redfield, Jake would have been hit by his father. But Big Redfield, despite looking like he had the agility of a dying panda bear, was fast and strong and he'd pushed him out of Wesker's line right before being hit by the enemy himself.

_I know you two will find each other someday._

Apparently,  _someday_ had come. Jake shook his head clean and gave Chris a short nod of gratefulness. Redfield clenched his teeth.

"The car, Jake," he hissed. "Get us the weapons. Now!"

_Stay strong._

And Jake turned to his right to grab the car keys he had dropped before. Once on his feet, he gave his father one short glance full of hatred and sprinted out of the hotel, leaving Chris Redfield and company in charge of the man who had destroyed their lives.

Before Wesker could approach Chris again, Jill sprinted towards him and kick-jumped against his torso. It didn't have much effect on the huge, amorphic mass, but it was enough to keep him from running after her husband. Jill's boot got stuck inside Wesker's tentacles and her body dropped, until she dangled from his chest head down. He would just suck her in.

Shit.

"Jill!" Chris yelled as he watched his wife struggle with the beast above her. She bent up until her back ached and tried to pull her leg back out of his grip, but as she pushed her hands against Wesker's shoulder in order to free her foot, she noticed how the dark worms began to cover and consume her arms as well.

"Don't fight, Jill," Wesker said laughing. "You'll soon be one with me. Again."

She shook, shivered and tried to fight him off, but the more she moved, the easier it seemed for Uroboros to absorb her.

Leon rolled forward and grabbed Chris' rifle, aiming for Wesker's shoulder an instant afterwards. The older man reached for the weapon, trying to keep the blond from firing.

"Are you out of your mind? You'll hurt her!"

"It's either hurting her or seeing how she's swallowed by that freak," Leon said as he gave Chris a quick glance. "But hey, don't worry, big boy. Your wife; your choice."

"Would anyone please shoot him?" Jill yelled, a little annoyed by the dick size comparison Chris and Leon were carrying out. Couldn't they just pull themselves together and act a little more professional? She was being pulled farther into the black mass and Wesker's dark look on her face wasn't making things any easier. Hadn't those eyes always freaked her out a little? Even before they had turned into the eyes of a reptile. She gasped, she pushed and she heard Chris scream on the other side of the room as Leon fired precisely into the black flesh that surrounded Jill. The worms dissolved under the impact and Jill was able to pull back and do a backflip to the ground. She was free again.

"Thank you, guys."

Leon pushed the rifle back into Chris' hands and grabbed the shotgun as he advanced towards Wesker. Chris and Jill both aimed for his head and chest, firing as much and quick as they could to keep him back. Wesker didn't stop, though; he turned a little under the impact of the bullets, but kept whipping his arms around violently as he laughed.

"Chris! Still trying to save those who don't deserve salvation?" He launched his arm forward and Chris dodged his attack. He turned and kept firing, his bullets impacting on Wesker's chest. Leon approached him from behind and shot his neck. He didn't like that, it seemed, throwing his arm back towards Leon and sending him flying through the room.

Natalia hadn't stopped quivering and muttering all kinds of curses, but she seemed to have recovered control over her body again. After getting all kinds of scratches and bites in the fight, Claire was now stroking over her head, trying to make her respond and get up, when she heard how someone was thrown against the stairs.

"Leon!"

"Sorry, Natalia!" Claire grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her after her towards the stairs. Leon sat up slowly and wiped a strain of blood from his mouth as he grabbed the shotgun again.

"Claire, stay back!" He hissed as he rose to his feet. "Where the fuck is Jake with the weapons?"

Claire touched his face and looked at him. She put the Magnum into his hand and closed his fingers around the grip.

"Take this," she said and quickly looked over her shoulder to check how Jill and Chris were doing before she looked at Leon again. "It isn't much but it might help you. I will get Natalia out."

Leon nodded at her, squeezed her hand and ran back into the battle. Claire took one last deep breath and watched the fight. Although she felt the urge to help them, she accepted her role as savior willingly. She was a member of TerraSave, after all, and helped those who couldn't fight for themselves. She turned to Natalia, who was coughing heavily.

"Come on," she whispered. "I will get you out."

But before she could do so, she saw the small metal case on the ground.

Claire bent over and took it up, sucking in a breath. She didn't know where it had come from, but it seemed Leon had dropped it. Inside, there were two syringes, and the content looked quite familiar. Natalia watched her attentively, nodding as Claire showed her the syringe.

"Yes," she panted. "That looks like the substance Vång gave you earlier."

Claire watched the scratches Alex Wesker had caused her by driving her fingernails into her flesh before. The G-Manes would have healed them already, but they still burnt and bled. Vång had been right about the effects of his virus. This was the antidote to his G-Manes.

She turned to the battlefield and swallowed.

There was still hope.

* * *

Jake was dialing the same number for the third or fourth time that night while he was running towards the car. Why did she even have that phone for? He wondered if she also let her supervisors wait that long before getting their calls.

"Jake! How are you? Has Chris arrived yet?"

"Sherry! Call your friends and send them to our location. Don't tell anyone but…" he kept quiet. Should he really tell her what was happening in that hotel? They needed reinforcements, no shit. They weren't going to make it without help from the B.S.A.A. and maybe the D.S.O. and the more Sherry knew about what kind of B.O.W. they were fighting, the better they could prepare.

"But what? Jake! Answer" her shrill voice pierced into his ears and shook the thoughts off of his mind. He hissed.

"My father is alive."

He could almost hear her swallow. Any other girl of her age who knew who the mysterious father was would have started crying and screaming. Sherry, though, kept calm. She had become a wonderful agent, he thought.

"Send me your location. Hunnigan is already contacting the B.S.A.A."

He huffed a laugh through the line before Sherry hung up. Jake quickly sent her their coordinates and ran around Chris' car towards the trunk. As he opened it, the sight of multiple types of weapons of all kinds glared at him. They had been thrown recklessly into the trunk, which he found extraordinarily irresponsible, but the choice was excellent. Why hadn't Redfield brought more of them into the hotel? Jake smirked as he found a real treasure among the weapons.

"God bless Rory Williams."

* * *

It was as if the nightmare had just started over. Chris watched Jill and Leon fire and fight as if nothing else had ever mattered, and images from all the times he had encountered and faced Wesker flashed up in front of his eyes. He would always come back - always, and it drained his last strength from his body. Wasn't it enough that evil itself would always bring up new enemies and threats? Did he also have to face again those he had already believed defeated?

He rolled to his right to avoid being hit again by that huge limb of Wesker's and instinctively searched for a grenade on his belt. He had none. Not that it would have much effect on his old captain, but maybe it would have given them time until Jake arrived. Anyway, now was not the right time to cry much over a lack of bombs. However, he was running out of ammunition. Leon had already thrown away the empty shotgun and was now firing with a magnum. Jill had switched to another option to keep firing as well. She had given her last ammunition for the assault rifle to Chris and was now pushing a new magazine into a simple handgun.

Jill saw the light at the end of the tunnel when they managed to bring Wesker to his knees and the golden core shone through his chest again. Jill took the chance and once again attempted to stab him with her combat knife. One quick flip and a kick into Wesker's jaw made him arch his back, leaving the core open to every attack. Jill spun the knife in her hand and slammed it into the burning heart, a shining fluid splattering like blood onto her suit. Wesker let go a cry of agony, he started to quiver and sent the blonde flying over the floor with one quick hit. Jill yelped as the dead weight of her body rolled over the surface.

"Jill!" Chris exclaimed and kept firing at Wesker, driven by hatred. Eventually, Wesker collapsed on the ground and Chris almost hoped for an ending. But the little piece of hope was soon wrecked. Wesker had become a superhuman long before his death; long before Uroboros. Chris could just stand and watch as his former captain recovered from his wound and stood up again, laughing like Chris had never heard him —nor anyone— laugh before.

"Do you really think you can destroy me with your old-school fighting skills, Chris?" Wesker laughed at him. "Look at you. You are getting old."

Chris swallowed. That bastard's regenerative powers were faster than a ray of daylight. What would he do now? Was there still hope for them?

Luckily, where there was no more hope, there was still his brother-in-law. It seemed that the return of his wife had given Leon the strength and faith he needed to keep fighting. He threw the next empty gun away and pulled out a huge combat knife.

"You're not gonna get out into the world again, you maniac," he growled before he sprinted to the mass of Uroboros and insanity.

Watching Leon attack, fail and stand up and try again, made something click inside of Chris' head. He himself had fought that monster so often, he could do it once more. The B.S.A.A. captain climbed onto his feet again and followed Leon into the desperate battle against the man responsible for their misery — among some others, maybe.

"No matter how often you come back from the dead, I will be there to destroy you." And he fired again.

Two men, two methods, one goal. While Chris relied on fire power, Leon was attacking Wesker physically from a short distance. Once, he was so close to the monster that he managed to grab his arm and hold on to it, giving Chris the chance to attack before the blond was thrown off again.

"Very elegant acrobatics, Kennedy" Chris howled a little as Leon stood up again.

"Don't you have a boulder to punch, Redfield? If you weren't that slow with the rifle I wouldn't have gotten free flying lessons."

Two men, two fighters; shoulder to shoulder. Together, they decided, they would bring Wesker down.

"Stop resisting!" Wesker yelled. The manic look in his eyes showed that he was enjoying playing with them. "You will be just the first ones to be eliminated by Uroboros." He turned to Jill, who was slowly pushing her body up again after the last hit. "Not you, of course. You, Jill, can still be a goddess of the new world. Next to me."

Jill turned her head to Chris and rolled her eyes. She was tired of fighting too; was tired of hoping; but there was no way she'd surrender to Wesker.

"You wish."

Chris smiled a little. Jill was so strong. She had survived so much trouble, such awful things, including his own failures as a father and husband, and she kept getting up again. Her inexhaustible will to end evil was just one of the million reasons he loved her.

Claire sighed in relief as she watched Chris get up and keep fighting. She had never seen her brother so close to giving up like a moment before and it had ached in her chest. However, their fight was useless if they didn't get to inject Wesker the antidote to the G-Manes. Even if they got to kill him, he would come back from the dead over and over again. She needed to get close to that monster and inject him the antidote. Her fingers curled tightly around the syringe as she stepped onto the battlefield.

Something swooshed across the room and missed her by inches only. Claire took a step back, breathing heavily. She had by far defeated enough immortal evil guys that day, but there was still so much to do before they could go home.

Home; with Leon; in peace.

That's where she belonged, and everyone who wanted to destroy that deserved death as punishment.

Wesker had grown uncontrollably strong. Every time Chris, Jill or Leon attempted to get close to him again, he whipped them off, laughing devilishly to the sound of the hits and screams of his opponents.

Claire looked at the syringe in her hand. She needed to get to him; needed to inject the bubbling liquid into his veins and let one of Vång's invention destroy the other one.

But how?

The moment she decided to run towards him, Chris was thrown back against the next wall. The next was Leon, who hit the ground with a loud crack. Claire yelped a bit as she watched him remain motionless on the floor.

"Leon," she whispered before the whip came flying into her direction again.

"Claire!" Jill came running before the arm could reach her friend and threw her onto the ground to dodge the attack. How had she been so fast? Claire turned her head to the blonde in admiration. Wesker was right in one thing - Jill was a goddess, a fighter, someone who would never give up, no matter how much life challenged her. Infection, captivity, murder, and the feeling that she was failing her own daughter; she had risen from the ashes more than once and she would always rise again. "You're alright?" The B.S.A.A. officer asked.

Claire nodded. Her hand was so tightly curled around the syringe that her knuckles turned white and her bones hurt. With crunching fingers, she handed Jill the antidote.

If anyone could make it to Wesker, it was Jill.

"This is our only chance," she told her as she closed Jill's fingers around the syringe. "This must be what Vång injected me earlier. It will turn off the effect of the G-Manes."

"G-Manes?" Jill snarled as she took a glance over her shoulder to keep an eye on Wesker. He was dangerously close to Chris.

"I'll explain later, Jill. Run!"

And Claire pushed the blonde onto her feet. Jill ran as fast as she hadn't run in a long time; a very long time. Since she had been searching for Chris the night he had gotten missing in Edonia maybe? Or that day she and Claire had run into a huge B.O.W. after entering a secret underground lab searching for Fisher?

Or the day in the Spencer Estate; when Wesker had been so close to kill Chris? This was, after all, kind of a similar situation. Luckily, there were no windows or cliffs nearby.

Jill sprinted towards their eternal; yeah, eternal; enemy, the handgun tight in one hand, the syringe in the other. Chris was breathing heavily, caught under a huge piece of rumble Wesker had thrown into him.

"Get up," her voice was low and begging, turning into a loud shriek as Wesker lifted his arm.

"Time to end this, Chris. I'm going to finish what started way too long ago," Wesker announced in the darkest voice. She heard Claire scream behind her. Time stretched and seconds became hours as Jill kept running.

"Get down Redfield."

She perceived voices, but wasn't able to understand them. She just saw Chris open his eyes and nod before he turned to his left, curling into a ball. Then, the thunder came.

Everything went horribly fast. A wave of heat blew dust and fire into her face and she dropped to the ground. Jill turned her head to the door and understood whose voice she had heard before.

"Jake," she gasped as she saw the young mercenary who put down the rocket launcher.

"See, Redfield? That's what I asked for when I told you to bring weapons."

Chris rolled onto his back again. With difficulties, he lifted his thumb at Jake.

The rocket had caught Wesker off guard, it seemed. He had tried to catch the flying destruction, but the impact had still pushed him back and the rocket had exploded against his body, leaving a huge hole in the wall. A burning mass of Uroboros wearing Wesker's face like a mask was still lying on the ground next to the rubble.

Jill exhaled as she got up and winked shortly at the young mercenary.

"Thank you."

A hand on her shoulder made her turn around; Claire was standing right next to her.

"Quick, Jill, the antidote," Claire pointed at Wesker as she kept speaking. "He's recovering."

Yes, he was. Every inch of Wesker that wasn't mush, was moving. The pieces of limbs and flesh jumped over the ground to become one with their core again. They had no time to waste. Still disgusted by the happenings, Jill spun the syringe in her hand and ran towards Wesker. Claire's look flew around the hall, scanning it for Leon, hoping he wasn't buried under the demolished wall.

Jill reached Wesker's body right when the last piece of him had set in place again. When Wesker opened his eyes, his goddess, the only one who was worthy, the one who had once been his puppet, set the needle against his neck and shot the bubbling liquid into him with one click of the syringe. And just as fast as it had begun, the fight was over.

Chris pulled Jill back as Wesker tried to hit her with his tentacle arm once more. But before he could reach her, he began to convulse, his limb crashing down against the tile floor as his strength vanished from his body. Wesker screamed and shook as his arm began to corrode, a fine steam emerging from the swelling before a dark, liquid matter splattered onto the tiled floor, disappearing as if it seeped into the ground. What was left of the immortal Wesker, was just a weak, boney body with a mummified, stiff and disgusting arm. He curled on the ground.

"Jill," Wesker gasped as he rolled onto his stomach and tried to push himself up. "You traitorous bitch." His gaze leaped up and hit Jill's face. "I made you. I saved you. I always protected you." He laughed as the woman wrapped her fingers around the grip of the handgun. "Because you were meant to be more than the others. You survived the Arklay Mountains thanks to me!"

Jill pulled the gun up; a shot rang through the hall and Wesker's head dropped onto the ground, a pool of blood leaking from the hole in his head. She sucked in a short breath. It hadn't been her who had shot, had it?

The shots didn't cease. Jill turned her head and stared at Jake, who was emptying his handgun onto his father's motionless body, grimacing satisfied every time another bullet hit the target.

"Jake," Jill whispered and put her hand slowly on the empty pistol in his hands. The redhead huffed and snarled.

"I thought you wouldn't shoot, Valentine. Couldn't risk it."

Jill laughed. She laid her arm around Jake's shoulder, causing the young man to struggle under her touch.

"Well done. We all got our revenge tonight."

Over Jake's shoulder, she reached her hand out for Chris'. The B.S.A.A. captain had stood speechlessly next to Jill, willing to leave the honor of killing their archenemy —hopefully for good this time— to her. Their eyes met in the shadows of the room.

"It's finally over now."

But nothing was over yet. Claire rushed towards the wall where she had lost sight of Leon before, dropping to her knees in front of the gravel and letting the tiny stones cut her flesh.

"Leon!" Nothing else mattered anymore. Nothing. "Leon!" She screamed as her slender, weak fingers tried to dig away the rubble, soon bleeding onto the dusty stones. Chris and Jake stepped closer to help her. "Fuck, Leon!"

In utter concentration and full of fear, Claire didn't even notice the hand that reached out for hers from under the stones. She came to stop when the body rose and lifted a thick cloud of dust along with it. Leon sat up coughing, his hand still holding on to Claire's.

"Nice shot, Muller," he glanced angrily at Jake, who replied with a shrug.

Once she saw he was fine, Claire threw herself into Leon's hug and kissed him. Although taken by surprise, he quickly closed his eyes and kissed her back until the dust in his throat caused him to pull back again and cough.

Jill laughed a little. It was over. She had found and rescued Claire and they were all fine. She turned around and walked over to Natalia, who was sitting on the floor watching them with empty eyes. Jill knelt in front of the girl and patted her head.

"You've been very brave again, Natalia," she whispered, at what Natalia smirked a little. "We're going to bring you home now."

Natalia nodded. She had expected Valentine to ask her what she was doing in the hotel, but the blonde seemed just too relieved to really care about her connection to Vång or even Wesker.

' _They just want to get rid of you. You're Barry's problem after all.'_  Alex' mood had worsened notably after she'd seen her brother die again, and she was letting Natalia notice the whole impact of her rage. Luckily, she could only do that by insulting her in thought. ' _But Barry won't let you live with him for much longer either once little Redfield runs to him and tells him what you did. They will kill you, Natalia. Nobody cares about you. You only have me.'_

The girl swallowed. She knew perfectly that she couldn't let Alex control her thoughts, that she wasn't right. That Claire wouldn't tell anyone and that, even if she did, Barry would understand that it was Alex Wesker's mind inside of her who had caused all that trouble. The teenager looked at Jill and nodded shortly.

"Thank you, Officer Valentine."

The blonde chuckled and reached out her hand.

"Just call me Jill."

The doors flew open and a group of B.S.A.A. soldiers led by Rory Williams stormed into the hall. Williams stopped and analyzed the situation quickly, until his look found Wesker's body lying on the floor.

"So, it's true. Albert Wesker was back," he mumbled to himself before someone touched his shoulder. Williams turned and saluted Chris.

"Captain," he said. "The F.O.S. has just informed us about the presence of Wesker. Had I known before how urgent this was, we would have hurried more."

Chris chuckled and shook his head.

"I didn't know either, Rory. Don't worry.

"We found several other B.O.W.s in these halls," Leon mentioned, still sitting on the ground. "It will be better if the team checks the complete facility."

Claire looked at him, trying to hide the shock. Of course, the team had to make sure the hotel was cleared and cleaned, but who knew what they would find in there. Claire's fingers curled in Leon's hand as she swallowed, feigning agreement.

Jill's look flew to Claire as she heard Leon's suggestion. The redhead seemed uncomfortable, but still nodded at her husband's idea. Jill swallowed. Perhaps Claire hadn't been awake yet; perhaps she didn't know what had been done to her; didn't know about the video.

If so, Jill wouldn't let her find out.

"Yes, he's right. I will lead the operation," Jill called and walked to Williams. "I want you to focus on B.O.W.s and leave everything else to me. Anything we find in here is evidence. Who knows what other dangerous scientists might recover with Vång's method." She turned to Claire, who was staring at her in shock. Jill smiled comfortingly and winked. "Whatever you find. I want to see it first."

Claire smirked a little, remembering Leon's words. Jill hadn't wanted Chris to come. Jill had known it was a trap. Jill knew. She knew everything. Claire gave her friend a short nod as she let her handle the issue. She trusted Jill. They had both trusted each other ever since they had met.

"Alright," Chris said. He didn't quite enjoy Jill's determination to lead the operation alone, but if the blonde had shown that she deserved his trust in this. Also, he though she looked pretty hot in that combat suit she was wearing, and it wasn't just the fact that it left absolutely nothing to imagination. It was her attitude, her spirit. That was the woman he had fallen in love with, and she had proven she still was. They looked at each other warmly. "I will head back home and look after Summer, then."

Claire laughed a little at Chris' comment.

"It's good to come back to a happy family life," she said. Chris glanced doubtfully at his sister, before he turned to Jill. They both looked at each other in regret, a sight Claire deeply disliked.

"What? What does that mean?"


	23. The Yet

_Claire dropped onto the bed, completely exhausted. It had been a horribly long day; or maybe it had been two. She couldn't even remember anymore for how long she'd been awake this time. It should have been such a lovely, peaceful trip; but, once again, the bad guys had messed with her free time. There had been the outbreak at Harvardville Airport and later Curtis Miller's attack on the WilPharma Facilities, and she had survived again, with only some scratches and a huge shard stuck in her leg. Not bad for someone who had been unarmed most of the time. Claire turned to the right and sighed, shifting uncomfortably. She stretched her leg out as she did, but it wasn't her leg that hurt._

_It was her chest; her heart._

" _Asshole," she whispered as she recalled her interactions with Leon. How long had it been since their last meeting; since their last phone call; before they'd run into each other in the infested airport building again? And what had he said? Something banal and stupid about her fighting zombies with an umbrella, for sure._

_She had been amazing. Not only had she had the guts to confront the undead with a fucking umbrella; she had also done some pretty cool acrobatics when Leon had tossed his spare gun at her so she could save Rani from the zombies that inhuman ass of a Senator had pushed her into. Mister special agent could have handed her the gun a little earlier, she'd thought. She was a civilian in there, yes; but Leon knew she was a fucking pro with a gun; unlike Angela._

_Oh, dear, Angela. Claire grimaced at the thought of her. That chick was so helpless and dumb it was a miracle she knew where up and down was, and at some point during their mission Claire had started to believe S.R.T. had sent her only to get her killed on purpose._

_Claire bit her lip. She was being mean. Angela was surely a very professional S.R.T. member who had only been perplexed by her first encounter with zombies. Hadn't she herself not been scared as well when she'd run into Raccoon City? And yet, it was a miracle Angela Miller was alive; a miracle called Leon Kennedy. Because Leon had run after her like a little boy who feared for the life of his puppy._

_Claire turned onto her back. She would probably never understand Leon's taste in women. He wasn't looking for something serious; he had always made that clear; at least not with someone who wasn't Ada Wong. Now, his behavior around Angela wasn't quite the one he used to show those no-names he met in bars. Angela was quite the opposite to Ada. Ada was smart, independent and she meant no commitment; Angela, on the other hand… Oh, dear. Claire facepalmed._

" _Stop thinking shit about people you don't know, Claire."_

_She kept her hand on her eyes, hiding them from everyone around; namely the four blank walls of the empty room; and let the tears flow. She wasn't Ada; she wasn't Angela either. She was Claire, a badass biker chick, a savior who didn't need to be saved constantly; she was funny and smart, nice and even pretty; she could handle a gun as well as she could handle a frying pan or a crying child; she was all kinds of amazing and cool; and she was in love with Leon Kennedy._

_She had noticed how much in love she was after returning from Antarctica with Chris. After she had mourned Steve Burnside, whom she hadn't been able to save, Chris had carefully asked her about that guy who had told him to save her from Rockfort Island. 'Not what you think', had been her answer to her brother's accusations back then, but it had been exactly what he'd thought, only that she hadn't known before._

_And Leon? Leon still didn't know, after so many years, that she was probably the best choice he had to ever be happy. Because she was awesome, wasn't she? Claire turned onto her stomach and cried into the pillow._

_And yet, Leon didn't want her. He had spent barely thirty seconds of his time to comfort her when she had most needed him, only to leave with Angela not long afterwards. Claire had been so pissed and upset about it that she'd jumped into Frederick Downing's car like a cheap hooker._

_She cried a little louder when she remembered her childish behavior. What had she been thinking? That Leon would be jealous? No, she was the one who was jealous and her reaction had nearly gotten her killed, while Leon went diving with Angela._

_Diving._

_They had gone diving together. Claire whimpered a bit. Diving meant sex, didn't it? But as far as she knew, once they had left WilPharma and had caught Downing, Leon had been with her all the time. When had he been with Angela? Claire stopped sobbing and huffed out a laugh. That bastard had fucked her while he'd been on an assignment! Leon Kennedy believed he was brilliant enough to interrupt his mission just because he wanted to bang someone._

_Someone who wasn't her._

_Claire turned her head to the window, sniffing and sobbing. Anyway, it wouldn't make her any happier. Even if anything happened between her and Leon, he would fuck her and use her and throw her away like a wet rag, like all those nameless girls from the bars; like Angela, probably. He would use her and he would never call her again; because he never called again._

_Claire got up and wiped her tears away. She didn't want things to be like that. Before being dismissed like some nameless chick, she preferred staying just friends with Leon. It couldn't be that difficult, could it? She was a Redfield, after all, and there was nobody as stubborn and determined as a Redfield._

* * *

**\- XXII -**

**The Yet**

Jake was leaning against the backrest of that wooden bench in the park, watching two of those tiny handbag dogs run over the grass. He hadn't known Chihuahuas could run that fast — or at all. Birds were singing somewhere in the crowns of the trees around. The dark night had grown into a sunny summer morning, but the peaceful views of the park didn't quite help him relax. Jake threw away the crumpled paper wrapping of the burger he'd just devoured and missed the trashcan by inches. He hissed. When he'd just decided it was better he'd get up and throw the trash away, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey handsome." After greeting him, Sherry walked around the bench, picked up the wrapper and threw it into the can. "How are you?"

Jake grimaced as he joined the blonde, who was taking a seat on the bench. He wasn't sure how he was. Angry, he was probably angry, but he was always angry so it didn't take much to figure  _that_  out. He blew out a breath and shrugged.

"I'm hungry," he mumbled. "You can't be serious when you call this shit  _food_."

Sherry giggled at his comment, well aware that he was just trying to hide his weakness for junk food.

"I'll buy you real lunch later." She said as she smiled at him, her hand slowly advancing toward his.

"Looks like I killed my father today," he snarled as his eyes drifted over the greenness of trees and meadows. "I am an orphan now."

"You were an orphan before." Sherry pointed out amusedly. Head tilted she turned to him and smirked. "At least you got the chance to kill him, and make him pay for everything he did to you."

Jake huffed out a laugh.

"Maybe some freak brings your father back too," he said. "So, you can get the same chance."

Sherry's eyes opened widely; she shook her head no.

"I'll pass, thank you," she replied and Jake laughed a little; she loved when he did that. Her hand squeezed his a little tighter. "Thanks for staying and going after them, Jake."

Jake shrugged. He wouldn't tell her, but he didn't know what he'd have done had he known what kind of B.O.W. was awaiting him in that hotel. He had stayed for Sherry, but he had found his own destruction in there, too. It wasn't like he felt related to that black mass they had encountered; but he felt something else break inside of him as the image of his mother slipped a little off that pedestal he had put her onto.

"She loved him," he mumbled and entwined his fingers with Sherry's. "How much of a monster was she if she could love a man like Wesker?"

Sherry took a deep breath.

"Jake, listen." She turned to him and took his hand in both of hers. "She never knew him like that. Wesker was…" She frowned a little as she searched for the right words to say. She herself had used to call him  _uncle_ , due to his close friendship with her father — or what she had believed to be a friendship. "He wasn't like that back then. He was always reticent, but not violent; and he was never rude." She closed her eyes. "Nobody who wasn't directly involved with Umbrella would have sensed his evil plans. So," Sherry's voice became softer, nearly a whisper. "I don't think your mother saw it either. She just saw the determined man everyone knew and, maybe he was even a better man by her side. Don't blame her, Jake." She pulled his hand up to her mouth and placed a tiny kiss onto the back of it. "And don't blame yourself for your father's mistakes."

After staring absently at the park in front of him, the redhead turned his face to Sherry. He would never admit it openly, but he was glad he had the blonde in his life. They had so much in common, even beyond the fact that they were children of those who brought destruction over the world. They had become some sort of soulmates in the fight against bioterrorism and on a deeper, more emotional level. Everything had changed since they had met in Edonia around Christmas 2012; thanks to Sherry, Jake considered he had a home.

A smirk ran over his face before he took a deep breath and began to speak.

It would be the most important thing he'd ever say to her.

* * *

"Water, please," Claire replied to the question if she would like something to drink. After they had left the hotel in hands of Jill and her team, Claire, Natalia and Leon had been pulled into ambulances which brought them to the nearest hospital. They wanted to check on all of them, but Chris had been able to escape their insisting pressure and Jake had disappeared before the medics even arrived.

"Do you have any news about Natalia Burton?" Claire asked the nurse as the woman handed her the cup of water. The teenager had started coughing heavily right before the ambulance came and had even been intubated. Chris had called Barry, so much she had heard, but she wished she could know more about Natalia. Poor Barry; he had suffered so much for his family.

The nurse shook her head.

"She's still getting surgery, Mrs. Kennedy. But I will let you know how she is when it's over." She winked.

Claire nodded gratefully. It was good to be back among normal, nice and sane people. Nurse Andrews was a lovely human being who was taking such good care of her. Moira and Sherry had visited her that morning, wetting her clean hospital robe with mascara-dyed tears, and also Rebecca had come to check on her earlier. It had probably been the least professional medical check in history, as Doctor Chambers had sobbed like a little girl as well while taking a look at her friend. They had taken blood samples from her; twice, maybe three times. Apparently, they really wanted to make sure she wasn't a threat to other people. But if they had once let her walk away being infected with the T-Phobos, carrying now the G-Manes —or not— in her bloodstream, wouldn't make her any more dangerous than she was before.

She just wanted to go home with Leon and forget about everything that had happened. She was meant to come back home, to a place full of love; to her family. But Chris and Jill, making use of Claire's absence, had decided to end their relationship, and saying that she was upset about it was an understatement.

Claire was so pissed it barely let her enjoy her return, but she knew how to keep her anger to herself.

"Thank you," she told Andrews in her nicest tone and turned to the door as someone knocked on it.

"Hey, darling."

Claire smiled at Leon, who stuck his blond head through the gap between frame and door.

"Hey. You're alright?" she whispered as Leon stepped closer to the bed and leaned down to kiss her.

"Everything fine," he laughed as he pulled closer a chair and sat next to his wife. "They took blood samples just to discard the possibility of an infection. Once I get them, I can leave. How are you?"

Claire tilted her head and smirked.

"I'm okay. As you, waiting for some test results and, well, the pregnancy test to see if there's still the need to abort." They both nodded sadly. Leon took her hand.

"Claire, we'll find another way, I promise. The most important thing is that you're alive and healthy."

The redhead bit her lip as she watched her husband's comforting smile. He was right. What mattered was that they were together. In the past hours she had understood something very important; she wanted to live, no matter what.

"At least I smell clean now. Remember that they didn't let me have a shower after I returned from Sushestvovanie?" She sighed. "Have you seen Sherry?"

Leon nodded laughing.

"She's so excited," he said as he kissed her hand. "Your death had been a huge shock for her, but now you're back."

The door opened and Rebecca stepped in, her face barely visible under the dark look she wore on it.

"Hey guys, sorry for the delay," she said as she walked towards the bed. "It's been a very busy day here. How are you feeling?"

Claire shrugged a shoulder but smiled.

"I'm fine, don't worry," she responded tilting her head. "Any news?"

The brown-haired woman nodded, smiling softly. She saw how Leon grabbed Claire's hand tighter and she felt a little jealous of their romance. She herself hadn't been that lucky.

"I'm still waiting for your blood test, but we have the pregnancy test results." She pursed her lips and turned to Claire. "You're not pregnant, which spares you the abortion."

Leon sighed regretfully. It was indeed relieving that Claire wouldn't need to go through the surgery, but the subject was the redhead's particular weak point, so any way that wouldn't result in giving her a child was just bad news. Claire, however, blew out a breath of relief.

"Alright. Thanks, Rebecca. When will the other test results be ready?" she asked.

Rebecca hesitated, a little surprised by how well her friend seemed to take it.

"I think they will be ready in half an hour."

Claire smiled in disappointment.

"I see. Thank you."

Rebecca nodded and excused herself before she and nurse Andrews walked out of the room, leaving the couple alone. Claire turned her hand in Leon's and entwined her fingers with his.

"I love you," she whispered and pulled his hand to her lips. When she did, she noticed for the first time since she had woken up, how bare her fingers looked. "Oh. He took my ring."

Leon frowned and inspected Claire's hand. It was true; the cute little gold ring she had worn so proudly, introducing herself as Claire Kennedy everywhere she went, was gone. He shrugged a shoulder.

"We'll get you a new one," he whispered and leaned in to kiss her nose. Claire giggled as his hair tickled her forehead. Leon sat back down and looked at her, his hand still holding hers. "Or even better. Let's get married again."

"What?" she replied laughing, shaking her head as if Leon was out of his mind.

"Yes, let's do it. Our first wedding was alright, but there were so many things that went wrong." He coughed cynically. "Mostly because of your brother." Leon caressed over Claire's cheek with two fingers as he tilted his head observing her quietly. "We wanted an intimate ceremony, and now we should get it."

Her lips curved a wide smile as she thought of the idea. Given the fact that nothing was as it had been before the abduction, perhaps it was really the right time to start all over. Also, after love, dealing with traumatic stress was probably the best reason for a wedding; not that she considered that she was suffering from PTSD.

"Yes," Claire whispered. "Yes, that sounds nice. Let's do that."

Leon took her hand in his and kissed it, his eyes still stuck on her face. They had been given a second chance as a couple; as individual people, they had both used and misused so many chanced that he'd lost count of them.

"We can choose the perfect location and timing. Everything will be fine now."

Yes, everything would be fine. Leon's presence made her feel safer, despite all the changes in her life. And Vång had wanted to make her believe he wouldn't care for her. Fuck the dead man, because Leon Kennedy was willing to marry her again. How had she ever doubted him? Claire laughed regretfully as she dropped into the cushions and whimpered a bit.

"I'm sorry Leon."

He frowned. She was sorry.

"Sorry for what?"

Her hand turned and grabbed his fingers tightly, searching for his touch. "He told me you wouldn't come." She swallowed, putting her hand onto her forehead, and laughed at herself. "Vång. He told me you wouldn't come because you were with Ada." Claire rubbed her cheek into the pillow. "I didn't want to believe him, but…Oh god Leon, I'm sorry. Please forgive I ever doubted."

His grip around her hand tightened as he tried to force a smile. There was no way that guy could have known about him and Ada, was there? He had said that only to weaken Claire. He had wanted to make her doubt, not knowing how much of the truth he was speaking. What was the right thing to do? Tell her it was bullshit? Play it down? Leon swallowed and took a deep breath, his hesitancy making Claire open her eyes and look at him doubtfully.

"Leon?"

That was it. Every chance to hide the truth not mentioning any of the happenings was gone. Years of training had made him the best, the coldest, the most focused, but outside the battlefield, he was, apparently, just a man, and Claire his weak spot. His eyes darted at her questioning expression. He could lie.

"Claire." He didn't want to lie to his wife. "She came to see me after your funeral."

Claire blinked shortly at him as she analyzed his words. Fractures of time

"She came?" She swallowed. "And?"

Her look seemed to challenge his to a fight of anger, deception and guilt. A fight he wouldn't win; couldn't win and didn't want to win. After one deep breath, Leon dropped his look and granted her the victory.

"And I slept with her."

Once the words were out, Leon saw something break inside of her; something that couldn't be repaired. He held her hand tighter in his, trying to tell her he was still there, that all that mattered to him was her. He kissed the back of her hand until she pulled it back to cross her arms over her chest.

"You did what? After my funeral?"

Silence. His eyes kept holding her gaze bravely, but he wouldn't repeat his last words.

Her look slid down, unable to keep holding his gaze. After all she had been through, couldn't she just live in peace in the place she considered her home? Was there any chance that she could ever be happy again when nothing was as she had left it? Chris and Jill, split up; Alex Wesker inhabiting Natalia's body; Leon in the arms of…

She shook her head in anger.

"So, not even twenty-four hours after closing the Claire chapter, you reopened Ada's." Her voice trembled as she spoke, trying to keep a cold head. "Oh my god, I'm so stupid. Tell me, Leon, how long have you been wishing for me to die?"

"Claire!" Leon shook his head, stood up and looked down on her. She turned her head in expectation about what he was going to do, almost challenging him. He gasped. How often had he been accused to have killed someone he didn't? This was harder. This was the worst thing anyone could have told him; and Claire knew him too well not to know how much it would hurt. She knew his weaknesses like no one else. After a moment of silence, he finally said, "How can you think that?"

"What else am I supposed to think when the first thing you do after burying your wife is fucking your ex-girlfriend? Oh, shit," she hissed. "I always knew this would happen. I knew it."

Claire ripped away the covers and swung her feet out of the hospital bed. She didn't face him; instead, she reached for the bag of clothes Chris had brought her and ripped it open. Great. None of the shirts he had put into it combined with any of the shorts. Not that she was a fashion expert, but Chris had to be color-blind if he thought his choice looked good on anyone. But that wasn't really important right now.

"What are you doing?" Leon walked after her. Claire flinched as he came closer, and he sat on the edge of the bed.

"What does it look like?" Claire snorted, hastily pulling a pink shirt over her head. "I'm leaving."

Leon sighed.

"Claire, Rebecca said…"

"Rebecca said I have to wait for the blood test, but, come on, Leon, what else are they going to find in me?" After pulling up the pants she proceeded to stamp her feet into the boots. Not the most comfortable footwear after having spent two months barefooted, but still the best thing she had available to put around her feet. Then, she turned back to her husband, standing barely two feet in front of him now. "What am I even doing here, Leon?"

He cursed himself for not being kinder to her; for not letting her live a little longer with the believe that he had been strong for her. She was so hurt and angry. And he couldn't blame her.

"Listen," he spoke in a calm voice. "It didn't mean anything. It was just that. Once. I regretted it right afterwards and I still do. And it definitely wasn't as it used to be between us."

That meant it had been just sex. The redhead couldn't hold back a laugh and quickly pressed her face into her palms. It looked like Vång had lied to her about the baby, but he hadn't lied about her husband being with Ada Wong as soon as she herself had been out of the way. Just sex. That's what she would have guessed or hoped, too, but needs could be satisfied elsewhere. Vång's words still rang in Claire's ears.

_And even so, he chose Ada Wong._

And Ada been the only woman with whom it had never been  _just sex_. Claire mumbled something into her palms, almost inaudible to Leon's ear.

"Claire?"

Her hands came down and curled into fists on hip-height.

"Why her?" Her look was cold as ice as she silently shouted that question at him. He knew where that question came from. It was the fruit of watching him fight and live and breathe for Ada Wong for sixteen years. And it was true. Raccoon City had messed him up in more than one way as fate had wanted him to cross paths with the spy. He had felt attracted to her mysterious beauty almost immediately and it had held him captive for so many years. It was easy. Ada was beautiful, strong and classy and she meant absolutely no commitment, and he had always believed that it was exactly what he wanted. Had he known how much his dependence on Ada had hurt Claire, maybe he would have tried to get away from her much earlier. "Why not someone —anyone— else, Leon? Had you already had all the women in the world and had to start all over again?"

He smiled a little regretfully as his hand found hers, but she pulled away.

"Claire." He swallowed hard and tried to explain. "I've always been faithful to you, and you were everything I needed." Leon licked over his lips before he continued. "But, all of a sudden, you weren't there anymore. She was. I admit, she was the worst possible person who could find me, but she did. She found me in my weakest moment, and she was the first one in two months who didn't try to tell me how I should grieve or feel, what I was supposed to say or where I should spend my night." He shook his head. "Ada came and stayed and just took whatever I would give her. She took it, and no matter what her intentions were, it was what I needed that night."

Claire blinked at him, still drowning in anger. She wanted to listen and believe him, because she knew he deserved to be heard, but she couldn't get herself to do so.

"It's alright, I guess." She nodded shortly and turned her head away. "It just means we both fucked outside of marriage."

Her words came out before she could stop herself. They cut the silence and turned the air around them into thick smoke, making it impossible to breathe. Leon felt the world around him collapse as her words echoed through his head.

"Claire," he whispered as his muscles tensed. "Did he-"

Anger filled eyes met his as Claire turned back to him.

"Yes, he did!" Panting, she forced out an unstable laugh. "And he recorded it as a welcoming gift for Chris."

Something had broken inside of him the moment she had made the hard confession; she could see it; but it wasn't enough. Claire didn't recognize herself in those words anymore, but she wanted to hurt and destroy him until he was so full of guilt and regret that there would never be the tiniest place left for Ada Wong inside of him. "And the only thing that kept me from breaking was the thought of you, Leon; the memory of our life together." His face had turned grey from the impact of the truth, but Claire kept pushing in a steady, dark and low voice. Was she trying to kill him? "This is what I went through while you were busy fucking Ad-"

He jumped onto his feet and pulled her into him. It was the best idea he could come up with in a situation that was way too much for him to handle. He had been trained to stand torture and pain, to keep cold under the most impacting revelations, but he hadn't been prepared for the insecurity and helplessness he felt now. A part of him wanted to hold her, to tell her he was there; that he would never leave her alone again, but the other part was so afraid of the raging spirit Claire had shown that there wasn't much left of his bravery inside of him.

His arms took her by surprise; she stopped speaking and looked into his eyes when he gave her the only truth he could give her.

"I'm sorry, Claire. I wish I could make it undone."

All of it; from the day they had fought over the abortion, over losing her body to how bad he had handled her death.

There was so much pain in his voice, so much anger. Why was she doing this to him? Claire loved Leon; she trusted him with her life and all she really wanted was to find peace in his arms. She turned a little in his grip and looked at him as her arms looped around his back. The tip of her nose rubbed over his jaw and cheeks, turning her head to him until their lips met. Eyes closed, she kissed him, soft and slow, caressing delicately over his lips with her own. Claire's hands traveled up Leon's chest until they slung around his neck; his moved downwards to rest on her hips. She tilted her head and caught his lower lip between her teeth, softly running the tip of her tongue over it, begging him to open up to her and let her devour him. He let her. Once she'd released his lip, Leon opened his mouth and let their tongues melt together into a deep kiss. They savored each other like they hadn't done it like the last time they'd had sex, and Leon began to understand that this wasn't just a normal kiss of affection.

They could start over again, she thought. They could just forget what had been and take this as the famous first day of the rest of their lives. They had both been broken. She had been so broken she had doubted he still loved her; he had been so broken he'd run back to Ada. That stupid, stupid man of hers. But everything would be alright; they would marry again; give up their jobs; adopt hundreds of children, or maybe buy a dog, why not? There was still a chance for them. Claire's head was spinning as her hands let go of his neck and shoulders and pushed Leon onto the bed.

He gasped as he watched Claire climb onto his lap. She leaned down and kissed his mouth again while her hands made their way down to his belt. Her hips rolled over him like an avalanche and he could feel her heat through their both pants. He wanted to make love to her. She was weak and skinny and she looked tired, but she was still Claire, his beautiful, strong Claire. He wanted to touch her. Claire was apparently waiting for him to do, ask or say something as she undid his belt and zipper and pushed her hand into his pants. That look on her face was pure lust and he wanted to take her. She licked over his lips and he caught her tongue between his teeth. She hated it; she loved it; she longed for the pain of it. Claire was in control now, as she had, actually, always been. She gasped into his mouth and started rubbing his dick with one hand as the other took his and led it to her breast.

"Touch me," she moaned and ran her tongue over his lips again. "And get hard for me, please."

Because he wasn't. The weakest part of him was being weak again, quite literally this time. He wanted to touch her, because he had always wanted to touch her, but this time he couldn't.

"Claire, stop. I can't."

She did; she stopped right where she was and let the tip of her tongue rest on his collarbone until it went dry under her breath. The grip around his member slowly ceased and she set his hand free again, before her fingertips ran over the skin on his lower arm. Leon breathed heavily; his eyes fell shut. He had tried to touch her, but he couldn't. She would try to understand.

But she couldn't.

Claire sat up and looked at his face, trying to force the tears back down. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes before she began to speak.

"You can't fuck your wife?"

Leon opened his eyes and stared at her. She was shaking a little, grimacing in pain and disappointment. He wanted to hold her; ran his hand over her knee, but she pulled away.

"Not like this. Please, it's because…" he tried to excuse himself as he raked his fingers through his hair.

She laughed darkly and bit her lip.

"Because someone else took your toy and broke it."

Claire's left brow shot up as their eyes met and his gaze confirmed her theory. She shook her head in anger and jumped off the bed.

"Wait," he sat up and called after her.

"You know what? Vång was right. He was always right. You are a joke of a husband, Leon Kennedy!" She yelled as she walked towards the door and turned back to him. Leon jumped up and clenched his teeth at her attack. "You should go after Ada. Maybe you remember how your dick works when you're with her."

His eyes widened as he took a step towards her.

"Claire, don't be childish."

"I am childish?" She laughed. "All I wanted was to come back home. Home, Leon. And what do I get? You're rejecting me, do you understand how that hurts? Tell me. Have you ever turned down a woman?"

Leon ground his teeth. He had; Jill Valentine, for instance; just hours before Ada had visited him; but that wasn't something he should tell Claire. She was burning like fire; he had always admired that strength of hers, but right now it was simply frightening. He remained in silence. Claire's hand reached for the handle and opened the door.

"If you can't do this, Leon, you're no longer of use to me." Her eyes shot to his face to check his reaction. She felt miserable, like a succubus who was waiting for the chance to suck out the life of the male in front of her. But she couldn't help it. His face was priceless. She had aimed for his pride, but had hit much more than that. Leon was hurt to the core and she felt more important with every step he took towards the hallway.

Before he left the room, he turned one last time to Claire.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered into her ear and watched her reaction. Claire swallowed and closed her eyes, sending a tear rolling down her cheeks.

"If so, you should leave now, because your sheer presence is killing me."

Leon sighed one last time into her direction before he left Claire alone. The redhead took a deep breath and dropped against the wall, sliding slowly to the ground. Her arms wrapped around her knees to keep herself from running after him. She had made a choice and needed to be strong for herself. Nobody would fuck with her; not even Leon. She was Claire Redfield, survivor of Raccoon City, savior of the broken.

And she had come back from the dead.

* * *

It was already late afternoon when Jill arrived home. She had quickly stepped by the hospital to let Rebecca check on her, but she'd soon been dismissed. Still in her dusty combat suit, she walked up the stairs to the porch and pulled out her keys. Chris was ruining their dinner in the kitchen.

"Ouch!" he yelped as he dropped the frying pan and it hit the stove. The whole ground floor was filled with smoke. Jill coughed out a greeting and Chris turned. "Hey, how was the cleaning?"

The blonde nodded smiling.

"Nothing that could be considered a major biological threat," she replied and took a cherry tomato from the plate full of salad. "It's all clean now, but some architects consider the hotel needs to be demolished." The blonde smiled regretfully. "Do you remember the night we spent there?"

Chris nodded smiling and pointed at the salad.

"I think dinner is almost ready," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "Claire's upstairs with Summer, when you've had a shower, will you call her, please?"

The blonde laughed a little and nodded.

"How is she?"

Chris shrugged. His sister hadn't stopped talking since they'd left the hospital. She'd said she was excited to see Summer again and what a pity it was that Sherry hadn't stayed for longer. She'd spoken about her plans to see Natalia Burton the following day, and that she was happy her surgery had gone well. She'd told him how glad she was that Chris was okay and had chided him for breaking up with Jill. However, she avoided the most obvious subject.

"Kennedy has disappeared," Chris said. "Aside from that, she's fine."

Jill frowned at him.

"What does that mean? Disappeared?"

The older Redfield rolled his eyes, headshaking.

"I don't know what happened but Claire knows more than she says. I think they even might have fought." He turned the stove off and turned back to Jill. "I asked her where he was and she told me he had gone to work."

Work. Yes, that made sense. Leon had always been a workaholic so it was the most logical thing to say to excuse him. Claire probably didn't know that Leon had quit his position in the D.S.O. the day she'd been abducted.

"I will speak to her," Jill said and turned away, but Chris held her back and pulled her into his embrace.

"Thank you for bringing my sister back."

The blonde smiled widely as she turned her head and nuzzled Chris' neck.

"Thank you for following us," she replied.

They pulled back and looked at each other before Chris leaned down and kissed her mouth softly.

* * *

The door to the nursery squeaked a little when Jill pushed it open. In the dim shine of the fairy lights they had installed because Summer seemed to love them she found Claire sitting in the armchair with the girl in her arms and a little wooden train on her lap. Niece and aunt were both sleeping softly and Jill smiled at the peaceful image.

"Hey, Claire," she whispered and slowly shook her friend's shoulder. "Claire."

The redhead opened her eyes and rubbed them.

"Hey," she greeted in a whisper. "Is dinner ready?"

Jill chuckled and shook her head.

"Not yet. Chris is still trying to find something he cannot burn."

"What? He's cooking? I thought he was ordering something." Claire grimaced a little and shook her head. "I will definitely starve to death tonight." The two women laughed quietly. "Has Rebecca told you?"

Jill nodded.

"I'm so happy, Claire. You deserve it."

"Thanks." The redhead turned to the sleeping girl in her arms.

"She missed you. We all did." Jill's voice was soft as she spoke. Claire smiled.

"I missed you too," she said and looked back at Jill, shrugging a little. "I mean, the little time I have been awake. Hasn't been really long."

Jill eyed her sister-in-law. So, she hadn't been conscious most of the time. That was good news. They smiled at each other in silence. There were so many things to say; unspoken, dangerous thoughts that needed to find their way out sooner or later. How would she ever find the strength to start an unpleasant conversation like that?

"He told me he sent a video to Chris." Luckily Claire took that burden from her. The redhead looked seriously at her friend. "Vång. Do you know anything about it?"

Jill smiled sadly as she caressed over Claire's hand.

"He doesn't know about it. I intercepted it before he could see it and I will make sure that he will never find out."

Claire sighed in relief and closed her eyes at the little secret Jill had just shared.

"Thank God. I feared he… well. I'm not sure how he would take that."

Jill nodded; she felt the same. The two women had kept many secrets from the older Redfield for a very good reason. The blonde shifted a little and caressed over Claire's short hair.

"I shot Vång's head for you," she whispered as if it was a secret and Claire laughed a little.

"I cut it off."

Jill blinked. She blinked and stared at Claire's smug smirk, trying to read whatever it was that lay behind her eyes. It was triumph, yes. Claire had risen victoriously from the battle and had burned everything on her way out.

"Alright, you win." She laughed shyly as she held Claire's hand. Jill remembered pretty well how insecure she had felt herself after coming back from Kijuju, or after giving birth to Summer; Claire had helped her gain confidence again every time she had needed it. Now, it was time she returned her friend that favor. "I'll be here whenever you need me. Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

Claire smiled.

"Well, you can tell me why you and Chris have given up on each other."

Ouch! That hurt. Jill smiled at Claire, who looked at her like a little girl who hadn't gotten dessert as she demanded the explanation. The blonde shrugged. "We all went through a very hard time when you died, Claire. In our particular case, it helped us notice that we don't work out that well as a married couple," she said. "The way we are now, we can talk about everything, I think. Let's just see how things evolve."

She didn't mention the kiss from before. She herself had to figure out what it meant before making any conclusions. She and Chris were getting along, it seemed, but that didn't mean there was a chance they'd get back together.

"Alright." Claire accepted her explanation with a short nod, probably because her


	24. The Where

_Leon had been so right; it was the best Tequila she had ever tasted. It was so good that she could completely ignore the surroundings it was served in; the burnt lightbulbs, the smell of piss coming from the bathroom, and those huge cockroaches on the floor. Also, after the fourth round of shots, she was about to forget the sad reason why Leon had brought her to that place._

" _Here's to Piers."_

_Okay, she wouldn't forget entirely why they were there, but the more her throat burnt due to the shots, the less her heart ached over the death of her ex-boyfriend._

" _Cheers!" Claire replied to Leon's toast as she poured the liquid fire into her mouth. Salt and lemon juice made her lips feel like she had kissed sandpaper, but, fuck, Leon really knew good shots._

" _Tell me more about that Jake guy," she asked him as their conversation had moved to the recent events in China and Leon's encounter with Sherry Birkin and the boy she was escorting._

" _He has Wesker's genes; I think that's all you need to know." Leon snarled, but Claire kept smirking._

" _Sherry seems to like him, and_ that' _s all I need to know." She giggled amusedly. "I wouldn't have thought that you'd seriously have a Chris Redfield complex."_

_Leon snarled. She was comparing him to her overprotective brother right into his face._

" _No! Wait! Your brother can be considered overprotective because_ you  _have never been dating the son of a terrorist," he shouted, eyes narrowed. "Although Fisher came pretty close to that."_

_She slapped his face playfully._

" _You idiot, stop reminding me of that," she laughed. "Leon, Sherry has to make her own mistakes. She's old enough." Claire smiled at her friend and filled their glasses again. "Also, you shouldn't judge him because of his father's mistakes because, come on, Sherry herself is the best example to show that children don't have to follow their parents' footsteps." She raised her glass and clinked it against Leon's. "To Sherry and Jake."_

_Leon huffed out a laugh and grabbed his shot glass._

" _To Sherry and her own mistakes."_

* * *

**\- XXIII -**

**The Where**

The walk towards Natalia's room was getting harder with every day that passed. The girl had exceeded all expectations the doctors had given her, but even though she had seemed to be doing a little better over the summer and had even been allowed to go home for Thanksgiving, by the end of December her health had decreased drastically. She had spent Christmas in the hospital; the Burtons with her. No matter how hard it was for all of them, they remained strong as a family, and every time one of them seemed to break, the others were there to lift them up. Claire envied them their family bond.

Once she arrived, Claire watched Natalia though the window in the wall that separated the room from the corridor. The girl turned her head and smiled as she saw Claire. The redhead waved and opened the door.

It was a huge effort to Natalia, but her smile couldn't have been more sincere.

"You look good Claire." She whispered weakly, her words more breathed than spoken.

Claire gave her a nod.

"Thank you. I feel good, too." Her hand found the girl's, softly sliding her thumb over the needle in her vein. "How are you?"

And the teenager smiled.

"I'm alright," she exclaimed excitedly. "We all had breakfast together this morning and yesterday my classmates came to see me." Her hand covered her mouth as she began to cough heavily. Claire handed her the glass of water on the nightstand. "Thank you," Natalia said. "And you have come again."

Claire smiled comfortingly as her hand combed Natalia's hair off her pale face. She believed the girl was happy to see people cared about her, but there was no way to hide how much the disease was consuming her fragile body. The shadows under her eyes had turned from only dark to a dull grey; her hair was thin and hung slackly from her head. She could barely lift her hands to cover her mouth when she coughed, but the shine in her eyes remained, screaming loudly at the world that whatever had happened, no matter how little time she had left, she was happy surrounded by the people she loved.

"Where is everyone now?" Claire asked as Natalia put down the glass.

"They're all working," she said smiling. "Nobody could stay with me today, but Kathy steps by every now and then as she works on the floor below."

Claire nodded. It was good she had chosen to visit the girl that day, so she could keep her company. Natalia took Claire's hand.

"Thank you again, Claire," she whispered. "For keeping silence."

Oh, right. Claire hadn't told anyone which dangerous terrorist inhabited the girl's body along with her own mind. What for? Alex Wesker didn't have much power over Natalia's body anymore anyway, weakened by the strong spirit the girl had eventually discovered inside herself, and the disease, of course. So, Claire had decided the teenager should spend the little time she had left with them in peace. Not even Barry or Moira knew, and Natalia was so grateful for Claire's silence that she thanked her every time they were alone. The redhead smiled.

"It's okay, Natalia. It's not your fault and you did your best to make things right."

Natalia's look dropped to their holding hands.

"Have you spoken to Leon?"

Claire swallowed. That was another thing Natalia did whenever Claire visited her. No, she hadn't spoken to Leon. However, that wasn't of any interest to Natalia, who was already consumed by guilt for having dragged Claire and Moira into Alex Wesker's evil plan. Claire just shook her head softly and caressed over the girl's head.

"Grown-ups do stupid things." And it was all the girl needed to know. Nobody could tell if things wouldn't have gone that horribly wrong even without the recent happenings.

Two women, two generations of survivors. One, withered and decayed; the other, starting a new life. They sat there and shared a moment of silence; another one in that eternal row of quiet minutes they lived together, never knowing which of them could be the last.

* * *

"Why the fuck can't you track him down? I thought you were the almighty U.S. government." Sherry walked angrily through the F.O.S. office as she raged. Hunnigan was sitting behind her screen, busy with the search for information and mostly ignoring young Birkin's outburst.

"It's not like we implant you microchips," she replied annoyedly and took off her glasses to give Sherry a piercing look through narrowed eyes. "But I will suggest it in the next meeting so we can control the life of ex-agents seven months after they ran away."

Sherry sighed heavily.

"Hunnigan, you can't just let him leave like that. The government must have a certain interest in having him close."

The F.O.S. agent rolled her eyes and put her glasses back on.

"He signed all the required papers, agent Birkin. He handed in his weapon, his phone and all his government related ID cards. I don't see any reason why we should mistrust Leon after so many years. If he says he wants to retire, we can let him go."

Sherry clenched her teeth and put her hands onto the desk, staring defyingly at Hunnigan.

"But you can't just give up on him so easily. Hunnigan, you're his friend, too."

The older woman sighed but shrugged.

"I'm sorry but I don't know where he is, Sherry." Hunnigan's look waved back to her screen. "As I said, we don't implant our employees microchips and if he doesn't have his phone with him, I can't track it down either. His last known location in the U.S. is the closest airport. That was in July last year. I know that he took one flight to Baltimore and then two more to Vancouver and Kelowna; which has been confirmed by the airport securities and the immigration officer. The last one is a young lady, which somehow explains why she didn't send him back home right away despite having no guarantee that he would ever leave the country again. I know that Leon withdrew a hundred thousand dollars from his bank account before he left. Since then I have no idea where he might be."

Sherry stared at her and blinked.

"He's in Canada?"

Hunnigan rolled her eyes.

"Agent Birkin, is that all you understood from what I've told you?" She laughed a little. "He is most probably in Canada; there is no phone registered on his name, neither here nor abroad; he took one hundred thousand dollars with him – in cash! Only God knows if he crossed the border with it and, if so, how he did it, and since then, nobody knows where he is." Hunnigan sighed deeply. "Sherry, he doesn't want to be found."

Sherry grimaced.

"So, we don't even know if he's alive?"

Hunnigan gave her a ridiculing glance and shook her head.

"I don't think he would get himself killed that easily." Seeing the concerned look on Sherry's face, she began to laugh. "Neither would he take care of that himself."

Sherry didn't say anything else. She sighed and turned on her heels to walk out of the office as Helena Harper just came in. The younger woman stared after the blonde in concern as she walked away in fury. Helena turned to Hunnigan.

"I really thought he would tell her where he is and let her know that he's alright."

Hunnigan took her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah, me too."

"Have you tried to call him again?" Helena suggested.

"He won't take it," Hunnigan replied. "Stubborn as he is."

The young agent walked over to Hunnigan's desk.

"Do you want me to check on him, Ingrid?" she offered. "Maybe Sherry's right and they need help."

Hunnigan huffed a little as she turned back to her screen.

"Shh. Don't call me that in public, and don't be ridiculous. Leon is a trained and experienced agent and he's not alone."

"You know where Kennedy is?"

The women's looks flew to the office door, where they found Chris Redfield, astonished and waiting for an answer, and Helena just managed to hiss an almost inaudible  _Shit_  under her breath. Without waiting to be asked to, Chris entered the office.

"I want you to tell me where I can find him. Now."

* * *

Claire walked into her apartment and immediately knew someone else was there. Her place was small enough to notice someone's presence even if they weren't moving. The air seemed to turn a little thinner when someone else other than you breathed in your oxygen. Closing the door quietly, Claire pulled her handgun out of the secret hideout and left her shoes in the hall. Unlocking the gun, she tiptoed into the living room.

"I know you're back, Claire, I heard the lock."

The redhead stood in the living room, her gun pointing at the uninvited guest in the armchair. She swallowed as she saw who was waiting for her, but managed to hide her surprise behind a cocky smirk.

"It's been a while, Ada," she said, barely whispering, at the woman in red. The spy chuckled.

"Since India," she remembered. "Three years ago."

Claire lifted an eyebrow. She'd been looking forward to cooking lunch after her morning in the gym, not wanting to deal with anything else than a huge bowl of spaghetti to restore all the energy she had spent during workout and all those  _Game of Thrones_  episodes she hadn't caught because of work. Unfortunately, Ada had come to ruin her day off.

"What the fuck do you want? Leon's not here, so go play somewhere else." She laughed bitterly and caused Ada to knit a brow and smile.

"Oh, I know that." The spy tilted her head. "I still wonder if your breakup had to do something with me. I would feel so bad about it."

Claire snorted at Ada's mischievous smirk and took a step forward, still threatening her with the gun.

"You better start talking or you will understand how lucky you really were that you ran into Leon in Raccoon City and not into me." Her blood was boiling as she shouted. Ada was so close and, apparently, so defenseless as she rested in that armchair, waiting for Claire's rage to pass. "What do you want?"

The spy put her two hands on the armrest of the chair and slowly, slowly got up.

"I come in peace, Claire." Her moves were cautious as she stood in front of the redhead. "There is someone who needs your help."

Claire frowned.

"What? Who?"

Ada shook her head.

"I can't give you more details by now. I just know she's innocent and she's in danger." I thought you might be interested in saving a good soul from a certain death."

Claire swallowed. Why would Ada come to her and ask her to help someone?

"You can go yourself," she hissed and Ada smirked.

"I'm not the one who rescues people, you know that. I'd be there if there was anything to take." She winked at Claire. "However, that girl is important."

"Why the fuck would I go rescue someone  _you_  consider important?" Claire took another step forward, her gun pointed now directly at Ada's chest and her heart behind it. The spy didn't even flinch.

"Because you can't let innocent people die, Claire," she lifted her hand and put it onto the barrel. "Just as you won't pull the trigger on me." She smiled. The sound of Claire's clenching teeth was satisfying. The redhead snarled and pursed her lips.

"Why don't you ask Leon?" The words rolled out before she could think about them. Claire watched as Ada narrowed her eyes at her.

"You know what?" She laughed and let go of the barrel. "I will do that." Pulling out her phone, she typed something into the device while Claire kept threatening her. Seconds later, the redhead's phone beeped somewhere in her back pocket. Ada watched her curiously. "I sent you one half of the coordinates. The other part has gone to Leon." She kept her phone somewhere in her cleavage and smiled. "Come on, I'm sure it will be fun. I wish a you a nice time."

Before Claire could reach for her, Ada ran to the window and jumped onto the frame. Right before disappearing, she turned one last time to her host.

"Oh, by the way, you better keep the government and your B.S.A.A. and TerraSave friends out of this, or they will make her meet the same fate as little Sherry Birkin." Claire sucked in a breath and watched how Ada dropped into the nothingness. When she reached the window, there was no trace of the spy. Damn, she was fast. Claire closed the window again and pulled out her phone. Ada had told the truth; she'd sent her either latitude or longitude value of some coordinates. She hissed, secured her gun and dropped into the armchair.

That was the definite goodbye to her afternoon with spaghetti and  _Game of Thrones_.

* * *

He drove up the hill through the woods on a cold January morning. The dark green trees were covered with snow and the lakes frozen; everything shone like diamonds in the sunlight. The place looked peaceful and Chris wished he could have some time to enjoy the sights and the fresh air; just relax. However, he was going to focus on his current mission, one of the important ones. He guided the Jeep he'd rented at the airport towards the location Helena Harper had given him; it couldn't be much longer until he'd find the cabin in the middle of nowhere. Just as that thought hit him, he saw the precious, peaceful, wooden cabin emerge among the trees in front of him.

He was there.

Chris parked outside and took his sunglasses off to have a better look at the building. The cabin was simple; a nice place to live, maybe even to raise kids. Smoke was rising from the chimney. When he got out of the car he noticed the smell of sweet pie. Lovely. It was good to know that there were still places in the world that hadn't been a target of bioterrorism. He heard a click behind him.

"What are you doing on my property," a female voice asked in a South American accent. Mexican? Colombian? He couldn't tell. He could tell, though, what kind of weapon was being pointed at him. Chris clicked his tongue and lifted his hands as he slowly turned around and stared into the shiny barrel of a shotgun.

"I'm sorry Miss," he said as he scanned the woman. Short, dark hair; a flannel shirt two sizes too big, angry eyes looking at him from a nice, round face. "I don't mean to bother you. My name is Chris Redfield."

The woman frowned.

"Redfield?" She put the shotgun down. "ID?"

He was tempted to roll his eyes, but didn't want to piss off the welcoming committee, so he just pulled out his ID card and showed it to her.

"Bsaa?" she read. Chris huffed out a laugh.

"It's read B.S.A.A. See the dots between the letters? Stands for Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance."

The woman gave him a hateful glance and gave him his card back.

"There are no B.O.W.s here."

But someone else was; someone who could have told that chick about B.O.W.s and bioterrorism, for instance. Chris laughed. Other civilians usually called them just  _zombies_  and  _monsters_.

"I'm looking for a friend."

Before the woman could reply, the cabin door opened behind him. Chris turned his head a little and watched a small blonde walk towards them.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Yes love," the shotgun lady replied. "Redfield is here."

The cute blonde turned to him and smiled. Damnit, she was really pretty. Probably a couple years younger than the other woman, and much more feminine. She was in a thick, grey winter coat and knee-high boots. A pair of pink fleece-earmuffs, which made her look even cuter.

"Rachel Collins," she said and offered Chris her hand. He shook it quickly as the girl kept talking. "I knew Helena would spill the beans someday," she told him laughing. "He's in the barn."

Chris frowned slightly and turned back to the woman who had been threatening him just a minute ago. She smirked and waved towards the left side of the cabin. Chris nodded and put his hands down before he started walking around the building. There was, indeed, a small barn. It was apparently under construction since the walls were still blank and looked brand-new; but it was mostly complete. The door was open and the rhythmic sound of a hammer could be heard. Chris slowly stepped inside.

"Leon."

The hammer stopped dropping onto the nails. Leon was bent over a wooden fence, busy attaching some last laths to the structure, when Chris called out for him. Grunting, he got up and turned to whom was disturbing him.

"What?"

Chris narrowed his eyes as he analyzed what he saw. His brother-in-law was in a dark grey, long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans, dusty and sweaty, with his blond strands falling into his face. Probably the kind of looks some women would be drooling over, Chris thought. He cleared his throat.

"We've been looking for you."

Leon huffed out a laugh and walked to the window, grabbing a bottle from the sill and taking a long sip.

"Uhm… Congratulations?" He snarled in a dark voice. "You're the first one who shows up here, but don't expect a trophy for your achievement."

Chris kept watching him.

"You know?" the B.S.A.A. captain said. "There are people who worry about you."

"Don't make me laugh," the blond replied. "Nobody ever worries. People just expect us to stand up for them; to save them, and never complain about anything."

He raised the bottle again, but before he could drink, Chris stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. His friend smelled like alcohol and cold smoke.

"Look at you, man. What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Leon stared at the other man, his glance full of hatred. As Chris relaxed his grip around him, he put the bottle down and turned back to the fence.

"I'm building a barn." He grabbed the hammer and a couple of nails and proceeded to set another lath to the structure. "Doesn't it look stable?"

Chris sighed eye-rolling and looked around the building as he followed him.

"Are you building it for those women? That's a nice move, admittedly. But what about your wife; the life you left behind?" Leon huffed and kept hammering, annoying the older Redfield to the bone. "Leon!"

"Go bother someone else with your shit, Redfield." Leon dropped the hammer and rose to walk back to the window and sit down on a bench next to it. He took another sip from the bottle before he pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips. "Those women are my family now; the only ones who don't try to make me feel guilty constantly."

Chris sighed.

"Was the money for them?"

Leon rolled his eyes and lit the cigarette. Of course, they knew about his investment. He would have to speak a serious word with Hunnigan. That wasn't the deal they had made.

"I can do whatever I want with my paycheck, Redfield," he hissed. "Those girls needed money and a helping hand; I needed a place to stay." He took a drag and reached for the bottle of whiskey. "I also drink here for free."

The B.S.A.A. captain clenched his teeth as he grabbed the bottle and threw it into the nearest corner, earning another judging gaze from Leon. The liquid spilled over the wooden floor.

"Look, Kennedy, you and I haven't always gotten along well, but you are a good guy and I always respected you. My sister has made some pretty bad choices in her life, especially when it came to feelings, we both know that. Piers was a good man but he was not exactly what she needed; Fisher… oh, god, Fisher." He rolled his eyes. Leon watched him, almost amused. "But you, despite everything, you seem to make her happy. You do. I have never seen her happier than when she's with you. So, I will ask you again, Leon. What about Claire? Don't you care about her?"

The ex-agent turned his head away. He did, Claire was everything to him, but there was that tiny detail that Redfield was missing.

"She doesn't want to see me."

Chris narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue before he sighed and walked around the barn, taking seat next to the window and giving Leon a begging look. "Look, Leon. I don't know what happened between you two and it's none of my business, but I have a feeling it has something to do with Ada Wong."

That name. Leon flinched, showing Chris he was right about his intuition.

"You're right; it's none of your business."

Chris rolled his jaw and smirked at his brother-in-law.

"That doesn't mean I can't help fix it." He pulled out a cigarette himself and lit it. "I think I owe you an apology, Leon. I didn't treat you very nicely when Claire died and I'm sorry. I know you had your own way to grieve and mourn her, and I shouldn't have pressed you to do it my way." He sighed. "Because my way isn't always the right one."

Leon nodded.

"It's okay, Chris. It's not like it matters anymore."

The older man smirked.

"I think it does. Because I know for sure that people do weird things when they mourn. Coping mechanisms may vary, but the pain they try to fight is usually the same." Chris cleared his throat before he kept speaking. "When Jill and Wesker went out that window in 2006, I kept searching for her body for weeks. As we didn't find anything, I didn't believe she was dead. When I was forced to get back home, I kept looking for hints, solutions, any piece of hope. I even went through the articles of all the newspapers in town, searching for a hidden message from her. But, of course, there was none. So, alive or dead, I had to get used to the idea that she was gone. Once she was declared dead, my real coping began." He shook his head in regret as he smirked, his look drifting to the ground. Leon listened to him. "There was that prostitute who looked… she looked so much like Jill. I had her come to my apartment, I called her  _Jill_  and I told her everything I hadn't said to my friend before she died. I confessed my feelings to that girl and we talked until the break of dawn." The cigarette was dying away. Chris took the last drag before tossing it into a small ashtray and looked back at Leon. "I've never told anyone about that night; not even Jill. So, treasure this."

Leon's lips curved a smile.

"You must be the only guy in the world who pays a prostitute to just talk to her." He frowned, until Chris' expression changed again and a shy smirk popped onto his lips. The older man rubbed the back of his neck, lifted his eyebrows and told Leon more than words could say. The former agent laughed as Chris continued his monologue.

"What I mean is that people do weird things when they grieve, Leon. Whatever happened with Wong, if it was while you mourned, nobody can blame you for it." Chris patted his shoulder. "I think you should really come back and speak to Claire."

Leon laughed darkly. The problem wasn't just his infidelity with Ada right after the funeral, but the fact that he had let Claire down when she'd needed him. He'd had his reasons, of course; there was no way he could just touch her like nothing had happened after learning about her time with Vång. His eyes darted at Chris, who apparently didn't know what price his sister had paid for her resurrection.

"Why hasn't she come herself?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

Chris took a deep breath.

"She doesn't know I've come. Nobody knows and I haven't told anybody where you are."

Yes, that made sense. If Claire had known Chris was coming, she would have made contact and begged him to stay quiet. If Jill had found out that Chris was coming she'd have blackmailed Hunnigan into giving her his number. The fact that nobody had asked him to remain silent meant that they really didn't know Chris would be there.

Anyway, Chris was not his problem. Leon rolled his jaw and turned his head away.

"She knows where to find me."

Chris' eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"What?"

They looked at each other, one astonished, the other darkly.

"She's one of the three people who have my number."

Chris got up and turned to the door. If it was true what Leon was saying, his sister had been lying to him about her not having the chance to contact him. She had probably learned from Sherry that he was missing and had used it for her own benefit. He gave Leon an apologizing glance.

"I had no idea."

The blond nodded.

"It's alright; you weren't supposed to either." He frowned and rolled his tongue over his teeth. "How is she?"

Chris sighed.

"She doesn't stop working. Three days after she came back she was already visiting the TerraSave headquarters to know where she could help."

A smirk ran over Leon's lips. That sounded exactly like Claire. The woman had never really taken a break and she'd still had the guts to call  _him_  a workaholic. Hilarious.

"Respect it, man. Everyone has their own way to mourn," Leon said. Chris looked back at him and rolled his eyes. "Also, I think you did the same when Jill died."

The older Redfield shrugged.

"Yeah, but she's my sister."

"She's stronger than you think."

"She's stronger than I am. She's stronger than anyone." Chris huffed out a laugh. He knew the real reason for Claire's extra work was not a mere coping mechanism. She had always wanted to help and now that Jill and he were looking after Summer themselves and Kennedy was gone, all she wanted was to keep herself busy. He walked to the door, and stood still before he left. "I will confront her."

The former agent laughed.

"You're gonna lose."

After another exchange of friendly smirks, he let Chris leave without further questions. Waiting until he heard the car drive off he pulled another cigarette and smoked it before he walked back into the cabin.

He ignored Rachel and Kit as they asked if he was alright and if he was leaving soon. He just headed to his bedroom and took the phone Kit had lent him. It was the phone he had tried to contact Claire from, and the number he had given Hunnigan and Helena for emergencies. Not that he hoped he'd ever have to respond. A big part of him was glad to be away from the field. After leaving New York, he had paid Kit and Rachel a visit and had told them that he wanted to help them with their cabin in Canada. It had taken him much effort to convince them to accept his money, but six weeks later they were already on their way to their new home. Two smiles and a nice question and that cute immigration officer had grown fond of him; and so, he could stay in Canada for six months.

He checked the device for notifications about messages and missed calls. Chris' visit hadn't been a surprise to him, as Hunnigan had confessed she and Helena hadn't been careful enough.

He'd expected more calls or messages from Hunnigan, who'd surely want to know if Redfield had arrived yet and how the meeting went, but in her stead, someone else had contacted him.  _,-73.98932377314861_ , the message said. He frowned at the long code; the last time he had received such a weird message had been the day Claire had gotten abducted. Back then it had turned out to be coordinates Ada had sent him, but what did she want now and how had she gotten this number?

He decided not to care more about the message and was about to put the phone to sleep again, when a call came in. He couldn't believe who it came from. Hastily he pushed the answer button and pressed the device to his ear.

"Claire."

* * *

"Don't tell Chris." Claire packed two Nine-Oh-Nine handguns into the bag to the other weaponry Jill had let her take. "I will keep you updated."

The blonde in the corner sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Wouldn't it be better if you took a team with you?" Jill suggested. "You don't know what will be waiting for you there."

"If we run into anything unusual or something we can't handle, we won't get farther and request help immediately," Claire replied hastily as her look hovered over her equipment. "Alright. I got everything."

It was past midnight. Claire had waited for the right moment Jill would be in the headquarters in her nightshift to let her in and equip her. She knew that her friend would be the perfect backup in case anything went wrong, also because Jill wasn't just running after her to hold her back or keep her under surveillance.

"It could be a trap. Do you trust that woman?" But that didn't mean that she would just stand there without a word, watching her friend go on a self-assigned mission almost alone.

"Not much," Claire said as she shouldered the heavy backpack. "But I trust Leon."

Jill clicked her tongue.

"Remember that he has an important advantage."

Claire took a deep breath and turned to the door.

"I know, Jill. But I still have to go." She hugged the blonde and whispered into her ear. "Thanks for everything. I keep you updated."

Jill nodded and opened the door to her. In silence, she watched how Claire disappeared into the night.

"Take care."

* * *

It was barely 4am when his grey SUV rolled up the hill to the meeting point, right in front of the location Ada had sent them. He and Claire hadn't exchanged many words; just short, friendly indications about what to do next; and had promised each other to meet up about forty hours later, when Claire could have gathered enough weapons from the B.S.A.A. as she didn't have the authorization to access TerraSave's limited weaponry. He himself wouldn't be able to put his hands on a useful equipment either without catching too much attention. Hunnigan probably knew already that he'd taken a plane back to New York that day. He parked the car next to Claire's and got out. Dressed in a hip-long dark red padded coat, jeans and black boots, she was standing in the weak moonlight, waiting for him to arrive. Her hair had already grown enough to be tied back into a tiny bun, leaving two strands of red hair loose to frame her face. She looked beautiful, but, admittedly, she looked beautiful in pajamas, too. Her breath steamed into the fresh air as she greeted him.

"Hey." Her gloved hand rose slightly. "Ready?"

"Anytime," he replied and let the moment breathe. They stared at each other for a while before Claire took a deep breath and opened the backdoor of her car.

"Alright," she said as she opened the bag on the backseat and Leon approached. "What do you want? I have handguns, shotguns, grenades…"

"Woah, wait. What do you think we're going to find in there?" Leon frowned as he spoke, but Claire just shook her head at him.

"I don't know," she answered shrugging her shoulders. "But I wouldn't want to have to see myself dealing with too little weaponry. Also, I don't quite think Ada would lead me into a candy store."

Leon flinched a little. No, she definitely wouldn't. She probably wouldn't just lead them into a trap after helping them several times either, but it was better not to trust the spy freely. He took out one of the handguns and hid it in the shoulder holster he wore under his dark brown padded leather jacket.

"This, the assault rifle and some grenades." He said.

Claire nodded.

"I'll take a handgun and a shotgun, then." She shouldered the shotgun and blinked at the farmhouse in front of them. It had two floors and a barn. "Creepy, isn't it? I wonder what's inside."

Leon shrugged.

"Until we find out, it's just a farmhouse." He laughed a little and walked around the car. Claire frowned.

"Is that how you do it?"

Leon stopped and turned to her.

"Do what?"

"Deal with fear," she responded. "Do you tell yourself you're in a normal everyday situation until you run into B.O.W.s and you can just go…" Claire lifted her hand and clicked her fingers next to her head. "Click?"

He laughed and started walking towards the house. He knew what she was speaking about; it had actually been been that way when he was younger, in Raccoon City for instance. You tried to keep your mind calm until you needed it to activate. It didn't mean you weren't having your eyes and ears on everything; it was merely a coping mechanism. Overthinking things would lead you down those long, dark hallways with more baggage than you could carry and, no matter how bad the situation already was, it would just make you see things even worse; just as those tiny problems that became bigger and more frightening at night as they seemed to feed from darkness. Keeping your mind calm and clicking in the right moment could not only save your life but your sanity.

However, he hadn't clicked in years. Every act and reaction of his, no matter how much adrenaline shot through his veins, was a coldly calculated move; before, during and after the fight. He had been trained to do so; to remain tense and focused on the situation in front of him; to just let fear happen and make the best use of it. It allowed him to move smoothly in and out of battle, as both states of mind were practically the same; full and controlling; with the slight difference that, in one, he was usually running. He was always in battle-mode; always fighting demons.

It was what hadn't let him sleep at night for so many years. Back then, he had discovered how well whiskey worked to turn it off, turning him soon into an alcoholic into the eyes of everyone who didn't know. It had never been an issue between him and his best friend, though. Claire had known, always, that he drank to forget; but he never been able to tell her how much he needed to forget. He used the drinking to disconnect from everything; every sensation his body memorized when he walked through hell. Surprisingly, that hell also included Ada. She'd usually managed to visit him before he'd turned the battle-mode off, and melted into it. With her, Leon had learned that full concentration could be quite useful in bed. Once she was gone, he could start the coping, though. Maybe Chris was right; people did stupid things when they were mourning.

Everything had changed when he'd started dating Claire. Claire had just erased the need to forget things, giving him something he wanted to remember. It was something to fill the void with; something much stronger than anything he could come across on the field. He was still in an unceasing battle-mode, but as he had learned to enjoy it with Ada, he also cherished it with Claire. She had proven how much of a healer she could be once he'd let her; because she had tried for years to reach him. How stupid he had been for not seeing earlier how much he had needed her; it had taken him months of awkward silence after they'd slept together for the first time to see how he really needed her presence.

Maybe if he had understood before, she wouldn't have been so close to Fisher when he'd chosen the TerraSave employees to hand over to AlexWesker; maybe he would have been at that party with her, supporting her, and could have saved her from being taken; maybe he could have avoided she got infected with the T-Phobos that had eventually destroyed her chance to become a mother; maybe he could have avoided the second abduction. If only he had understood earlier. Those were the new demons he had to deal with, and they were stronger than anything that had ever haunted him.

"It's not like that," Leon said and kept walking to the farmhouse, followed by Claire. "But right now, we have no reason to expect anyone but a nice, old farmer couple in there." He shrugged laughing. "Maybe they offer us breakfast if we ask nicely."

Claire laughed along.

"I'd kill for a good farmer's breakfast, to be honest."

They stepped onto the veranda. The wooden floor creaked loudly under their feet as they walked to the door. Leon knocked; they waited; silence. He knocked again; they waited; silence.

"I guess they're still sleeping. It's very early in the morning, after all," he murmured and turned the door handle. It opened. "Great."

He gave Claire a short nod and they lifted their handguns as he pulled the door open. The flashlight she shone into the corridor revealed just that: a corridor, long and dark and dusty, with one door on the right, another one at the end and a staircase on the left.

"Hello?" Leon called into the house, his voice crashing dully against the rough walls. "Is anyone here?" His question was answered by silence.

"Let's check the ground floor first," Claire suggested as they advanced through the hall. Leon nodded and turned into the first room on the right through the open door. It was a large living room, furnished with the taste in fashion of a mummy. One big couch and two armchairs in floral design were placed around a fireplace. There were seats for six people overall, but the dusty cushions said that no one had sat there in a long time.

"Clear!" he yelled as a sign for Claire to come in. A bookshelf stood on the opposite wall; Leon approached it and hovered the flashlight over the titles. Nothing interesting; just American classics in a deplorable condition.

Claire inspected an old grandfather clock next to a commode that reached into the open dining room. Someone had broken the glass window of the case, ignoring the fact that it could be opened like a door; the pendulum was missing.

"I hate clocks," she said as she went onto her knees, having a closer look at the inner side of the case.

Leon turned and walked over to her.

"Nothing," he informed and shone the light through the room. "The whole room is rather disappointing, so tidy."

Claire got up and nodded.

"I actually agree with you; this place doesn't look like we'd find anything here," she said as she approached the commode and pulled out the first drawer. Something clicked. "Leon?"

"I heard it," he dropped to his knees next to the commode and listened. "Do it again."

Claire pushed the drawer back into its place. When she pulled it out again, the piece of furniture clicked a second time.

"I'll try another one," she said and pulled out the next drawer. Three clicks sounded when she did. They exchanged curious looks and kept investigating the mechanism of the commode. It had four drawers, each one empty; each one clicking differently when opened. "Looks like this might require some sort of code."

Leon nodded and shone his flashlight across the dining table and towards the next door. Who knew what else they would find in that house.

"Let's keep going."

If they hadn't been sure yet that they wouldn't run into a nice elder farmer couple in there, now they were. While the dining and living room looked almost normal, the kitchen was a mess. Most of the cabinets had been ripped open and the content thrown over the floor. The smell of vinegar lay in the air. Leon slightly kicked a metal can and sent it rolling over the ground. It hit an open jar and came to stop. Claire approached the sink and grunted in disgust.

"Oh, geez," she complained, pinching her nose. "This place smells like rotten rat meat."

Leon couldn't help but laugh at the comment.

"How does rat meat smell when it's not rotten?" he asked; Claire chuckled and turned around. "So, what exactly did Ada tell you we would find here? Oh, I wouldn't open that."

Claire smirked and peeked into the fridge anyway.

"Look at this!" she said as she opened the fridge wider and shone the light into it. "Someone keeps their keys in a cool place." She turned victoriously to Leon as she swung the key on the small metal chain around her finger. She read the label on it. "Sophie's room." She looked at Leon. "Who is Sophie?"

The blond man stepped closer and frowned.

"We will have to find out. Is there anything else useful in here?"

Claire shrugged and opened a drawer.

"Knives always come in handy, I guess." She took one and handed it to Leon. "So, to come back to your question from before," she explained as she pushed a second blade into her own pocket. "Ada just said some girl or woman here needed my help and that the government shouldn't get involved if we don't want her to meet the same fate as Sherry."

Leon swallowed.

"A B.O.W.?" Claire shrugged.

"We shall see." She turned. "Nothing else here, I think."

They walked through the next door and stood in the corridor again. From this side of the house, it looked even creepier. Dark paintings and portraits hung from the wall; one uglier than the previous one. They had a closer look at all of them before they decided they should go upstairs.

"Maybe we find something interesting in Sophie's room," Claire said and they started walking through the hall in silence; awkward silence. "So, how was Canada?"

Leon frowned a little as his eyes darted at her.

"I didn't know you were in the mood for small-talk." His brow jumped up expectantly, at which Claire smirked.

"Well," she said. "I'm just trying to… catch up?" She shrugged. "I never imagined you would enjoy fishing."

"I actually prefer other kinds of activities, but you know, I was dragged along." He replied and began to frown as he turned to Claire in confusion. "Who told you I went fishing?"

She turned and lifted an eyebrow.

"You did, in one of your messages." She nodded. "You told me one of Helena's friends forced you to go fishing with her."

Leon was about to respond when they heard a sound on the upper floor. They exchanged hastily a glance before they ran up the stairs, guns lifted. Leon first, Claire right behind him. Up, it was even darker than on the ground floor, and they were glad they were carrying their flashlights.

"That sounded like a jar rolling of the floor, don't you think?" Claire asked, at which Leon nodded. It could have been an animal throwing something off a shelf, maybe even the wind. But he had been in enough zombie infested places to know better. They stood in a tiny room with three doors. One was ajar. Leon slowly walked towards it and pushed it wider open. He breathed in as he heard the dripping faucet; he stood in a small bathroom, the bathtub hidden behind a long shower curtain. Claire walked backwards into the bathroom, keeping an eye on the hall behind them, as Leon removed the curtain.

"Oh, nice," he exclaimed and took up the Magnum he found in the bathtub. Quick fingers checked the cylinder. "It's empty."

Claire turned to the cabinet over the sink and opened it, grimacing disgusted at the cockroach that was greeting her. It was also full of vials of alcohol, iodine and other cleaning substances. Nothing of value, though. The cabinet rattled and the small bottles popped out of it as something in the next room hit the wall.

Startled, Claire moved back into the hall, Leon behind her. They stopped in front of the door to the room where the noise had come from and listened. Something grunted on the inside. A key stuck in the lock from their side of the door. Claire slowly unlocked it by turning the key. Leon lifted his handgun, mimicked by the redhead. He put his free hand onto the handle and counted to...

"Three!" He said in a low voice and pushed the door open, hitting the infected being that was waiting behind it directly in the head. It dropped onto its back and groaned as Claire stepped into the room after Leon and shot the creature in the head. Once, twice, until it stopped moving.

"What do we have here?" Claire knelt down and inspected the defeated B.O.W. It was in advanced decomposition, its skeleton shining through the little flesh around the frame. The clothes seemed an old man's, and Claire guessed it could be the owner of the farm. "This matches the description Barry Burton gave of the Rotten he encountered on that Island, although your 2013 report said something about mummified C-Virus zombies, didn't it?" Leon hummed affirmingly; Claire pulled out a small plastic tray and a scalpel and began taking tissue samples. "I will take this to the lab. It could also be a new virus, who knows."

"Don't breathe in too deeply, just to be safe," Leon huffed as he walked around the room, looking for more hints. They were in a bedroom. A large bed stood next to the wall, crowned by a wooden crucifix. The walls were covered in dark blood splatters; along with the dark stains on the floor it made the room look like a butchery. There was a dresser and a big wardrobe in the room too. The moonlight shone through the only window into the room. Leon walked around the bed to one of the nightstands, where he found a small frame with a photograph in it. It showed an elder couple and a little girl. They were all laughing into the camera. The man had a round, funny face, while the woman's was sharper, with a long nose and a squared jaw. The little girl was blonde with big blue eyes. She reminded Leon a little of Sherry and he wondered if that girl was Sophie.

Something grunted in the bed next to him. The covers were thrown off as something kicked him in the side and pushed him back.

"Ouch," he yelped as his head hit the wall. Leon lifted his hand gun and fired against the creature that had risen from the bed. One shot to the chest, another two in the head, and the B.O.W. collapsed. Claire came running to him

"Leon!" she called. "Are you hurt?"

He rubbed the back of his head and noticed the warm blood on his fingers. He had hit his head hard enough to start bleeding. He quickly confirmed that the three fingers he saw were actually the amount Claire was showing him. The redhead got up and sprinted out of the room, soon coming back with paper tissues, some gauzes and a little vial of alcohol they had found earlier in the bathroom.

"Lean down," she said and pushed his head down, causing him to yelp in pain. "Shit, I shouldn't have brought you with me," she hissed. "Not after so many months away from the field."

"Claire, don't exaggerate," Leon complained as he felt her delicate fingers clean his wound. "Training of so many years can't be forgotten in just seven months."

"Do you feel dizzy?" she asked as she applied pressure on his wound. And he didn't feel dizzy. He didn't even feel the pain of the impact any more. The pressure ceased. "Oh."

Leon swallowed and looked up slowly, Claire's fingers still holding his head, but in a softer way.

"You don't seem to be surprised," he whispered as they looked at each other.

"Neither do you," she replied in a serious tone and made him laugh.

"Well, it's been seven months. I had plenty of time to hurt myself, especially since I was testing my carpenter skills in Canada. I admit I was a little shocked the first time a cut just healed in front of my eyes, but it all began making sense." He smiled softly. "How do you know?"

"Rebecca took blood samples from you, remember?" She softly thumbed over his cheek as she spoke. "She didn't notify the government about it. You're not a threat and not even contagious, so she decided to let it slide."

"But she told  _you_." His eyes scanned her features in the dim shine of the flashlight on the ground, coming to rest on her lips. They twitched a little before she replied.

"Well, I'm still your wife," she whispered and he smirked. "I told Jill, though. I tell her everything; she's smart enough not to interfere. She also knows that we're here tonight."

They held gazes for a while

"I never told you I went fishing." His eyes narrowed as he smirked at her and she giggled, headshaking.

"No. Hunnigan did," Claire said. "She told me when I called her to ask how you were and she forwarded a picture one of the girls had sent her and Helena." She gave him a bratty smirk. "Did you know that Helena and Hunnigan…"

He nodded before she could finish the sentence.

"Yeah, I guessed that." He smirked and Claire looked away shyly.

"And speaking of couples, Sherry and Jake are now officially dating," she said in a low voice.

"Really? He agreed to that?" Leon frowned a little, smirking at Claire, who nodded happily. He seemed to be taking the news well.

"They have been on trial for six months before they announced it. Can you believe it? As if they hadn't been on trial for four years already."

They laughed, both glad for the girl they had rescued together from Raccoon City and the boy who dared love her.

Claire smiled. They looked at each other in silence and Leon noticed he wanted to kiss her. They were in the blood flooded bedroom of a dusty farmer's property, and yet he wanted to kiss her. His hand crawled up her arm and cupped her jaw. He kept looking at her.

"I miss you."

Claire shivered a little as she took his hand in hers and squeezed it. She didn't reply; she only nodded her head as her slender, cold fingers trembled around his own. It hurt a little; just a little too much. Her look dropped.

"Maybe we should get going."

Leon ground his teeth as Claire got onto her feet again and turned to the wardrobe. Leon hovered his flashlight over the bed. The removed covers had been hiding more blood and guts beneath. The B.O.W. that had attacked him had one hand chained to the bedpost; the other one had been ripped off and was dangling from the post on the other side. The creature had carvings on its chest, thighs and feet, and clear cuts in its face from the lips up to the ears.

"Looks like someone was forced to play the Joker," he mumbled and turned back to the family portrait he had dropped onto the ground. "Do you think it's them?" Claire turned and took the picture from his hands. "The clothes seem to suggest they were of an advanced age when they passed."

"I agree." She looked from one dead body to the other and eventually pointed at the one in the bed. "This one seems to be the woman." With two fingers, she removed the covers a little more. "And she seems to have been tortured."

"T-Phobos?" Leon asked at which Claire nodded.

"Would make sense, yes. We found many torturing devices on Sushestvovanie Island; it's how they triggered the virus." She frowned and shook her head. "But there were no female infected." Her eyes darted to Leon. "The normal T-Phobos can't mutate women. The reports said all the female test subjects died when the Virus was triggered. There are no female T-Phobos B.O.W.s." She pointed a the dead B.O.W. in the bed. Which either means that this is not the normal T-Phobos-"

"Or that this is not a woman."

Claire blew out a breath and knelt over the dead creature.

"I better take some samples from this one, too."

Leon watched her collect some piece of flesh before his look wandered back to the picture Claire had left on the bed next to her.

"I guess we will have to suppose this girl is Sophie," he mumbled and waited for Claire to lift her head and look at him. She nodded.

"Our best guess right now," she got up and wrote something onto the plastic case where she kept the sample before she pushed it into her side pack. "There are just clothes in the wardrobe. Shall we have a look at the other room?"

Leon nodded and the two headed to the last unopened door. As expected, it was locked. Claire pulled out the key to Sophie's room and used it to unlock the door. She could feel her heart beat up to her throat when she turned the handle and the door squeaked open; a fresh breeze blew into her face.

It was the bedroom of a little girl, and someone had spent a lot of money on its decoration. There was nothing missing. It was equipped with a big wardrobe that covered the whole of a wall. The mirrors on all its doors made the room look even larger than it was. About twenty dolls with big, round eyes were staring at them from the canopy bed. Even in the dim moonlight, one could tell the bedroom was decorated in pink and purple. A wooden doll house stood in the corner next to the door, in the other one, they found a desk and a small mechanical music box. Leon moved to inspect the bed while Claire went to the desk.

"So, how did it happen?" She turned to Leon and their eyes met. "The G-Manes?"

Leon laughed and shook his head.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I kinda suspect of Ada," he replied and shrugged as he had a closer look at the dolls on the bed. Some of them had been mutilated with a knife. "Creepy."

"I see," Claire said as she opened the drawers of the desk. "Did you die?"

He rolled his jaw as he thought about it for the hundredth time. The snake B.O.W., the fall and all that blood under him when he'd woken were certainly indications that he had, indeed, been killed in that hotel. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"I think so, yes."

Claire's face showed pain as she eyed him. She quickly turned away to hide her shock from Leon and focused on the desk instead. In the first drawer she'd just found color pencils, pens and blank paper sheets. The second one, though, revealed a book. When she took it up she saw it was a diary she was holding.

Neither the bed nor the dolls on it had shown anything useful, so Leon decided to see if he'd find something in the doll house in the other corner of the room. He pushed one of the wings open. In the shine of the flashlight he could see how well-detailed every object was. If this was handmade, which it appeared to be, the artist had spent a lot of time carving it. The left side of the dollhouse showed a kitchen on the ground floor and a bedroom on the floor above. A small doll lay in the bed, with their arms lifted. Leon slowly took up the tiny figure and froze. Someone had cut out the doll's eyes, leaving dark holes on the face. It looked like a skull. The hair had been chopped off and the dirty cloth it wore as a dress was soaked in a dark red liquid that spilled from the bed onto the floor. It somehow reminded him of the B.O.W. they had found in the other bedroom. The word  _monster_  was written on the wall.

Leon opened the right wing and found the living room and a bathroom. Another tiny doll was in the bathtub. It still had its eyes in place, but someone had bored a hole into its head. Next to the doll, there was a tiny plastic gun. He took out the revolver they had found before in the bathtub. Could it be that someone had been shot in the bathtub? On the couch in the living room he found a metal piece. He took it and inspected it. It was a crank with a square-shaped hole on one end.

"I wonder what that's good for," he mumbled and turned when he heard something behind him drop to the floor. "Claire!" Claire was sitting on the chair in from of the desk, a book next to her feet. Leon knelt next to her; she was shaking; her eyes wide open. "Claire, what's wrong."

She turned to him, still in shock.

"Vång was here," she whispered and caused Leon to frown.

"What? What did he do here?"

Claire shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. However, she was still heavily shaking.

"I think he…" She swallowed and leaned down to grab the diary and showed it to Leon.

He read through the lines. It showed irregular posts from the end of the year 2016 up to some days ago; not more than two or three lines per entry. It was, apparently, Sophie's diary, and it spoke about her fear of a certain monster, about her grandfather, and about a man called Fritjof.

_I don't want the monster to touch me or I am a monster too._

Leon read the lines and frowned. Was it the same monster the doll in the bed represented or did it refer to Vång? Probably not. The lines were all written in present tense and she changed the subjects' names without explanation, but it seemed that the monster was not Fritjof. He shook.

_January 17. Fritjof says we can escape from here. He says he takes me with him._

_January 23. Tonight everything burns. I'm so excited._

_January 28. Fritjof brings me to Monster. I hear they fight. I am afraid._

The fire, the escape, Fritjof Vång and a little girl. The entries suggest that Vång had helped Sophie escape from somewhere. The mental institution, maybe?

_Saint Peter isn't that bad. I am more alone now._

Yes, it seemed they had met in the asylum. They escaped together when the fire burnt it all, and Vång had taken her to this farm; her home.

_Fritjof says I can't go into Grandpa's and Monster's bedroom._

_Fritjof works a lot and comes back home late. I feel alone._

Leon frowned as he read the entries. Were Sophie's grandfather and the  _monster_ the two B.O.W.s in the other bedroom? But, where was the girl? Leon kept reading until he found the lines that had shaken Claire so much.

_Fritjof comes to my bedroom last night. He is cold._

He shivered.

_Nobody ever touches me there._

He felt his heart race.

_I stay here, alone. I wait for Fritjof to come._

His hands curl into fists.

_Fritjof wants me to keep the baby. I want it too. I am not alone._

Leon's look drove up to Claire. She was almost crying.

"He abused her, Leon," she whined. "He touched an innocent, mentally unstable girl."

Leon took Claire's hand and pulled her onto her feet, looping his arms around the redhead and holding her until she stopped shaking. Her fingers hooked into his jacket as she nuzzled his shoulder.

"We will find her," he whispered. "And we will get her out."

Claire took a deep breath and slowly pulled back. His arms still rested on her shoulders and looked at her with that deep, determined glance and a lovely little smile on his lips. She smirked.

"We will," she said nodding and freed herself from Leon's grip. Now they knew what exactly they were searching for, their target had a name: Sophie. "Thank you for coming, Leon."

He shook his head and smiled.

"Thank you for inviting me," he said and looked down. "I think I would have expected you to come up with some excuse so I would give you part of the coordinates without asking further questions."

Claire laughed a little.

"Nah, you wouldn't have let me get away with that. And since you'd have found out anyway, I thought it was better to be honest from the beginning. So, thank you for not leaving me alone in this."

If Leon hadn't come, Jill would have joined her, only to make sure she'd be alright. The blonde had even called Leon to assure he would join Claire on her quest before letting the redhead leave alone. She had turned into a very motherly type of soldier, always looking out for her teammates.

But, being completely honest, Claire preferred doing this with Leon. She took his hand.

"Especially, after what I did to you." Her eyes snapped up to his. Leon tilted his head. "I was being such a bitch, Leon and I'm very sorry."

The blond took her hand and entwined their fingers.

"Claire, you had a good reason to be mad."

"I had a better reason to just believe you and let it go." Claire smiled regretfully as she shrugged her shoulders. "Instead, I hurt you on purpose and I said so many awful things. I regretted it the moment you left the hospital room, but I…" She sighed. "I tried to show everyone that I could handle it all on my own; that I didn't need anyone to help me get over everything. I just wanted to prove that nobody could bring me down, but I think that the only one who wasn't believing it right from the beginning was myself."

Leon couldn't help but smile. Hearing Claire's apology was relieving, but he still believed that he should have been stronger as well; stronger for her. He lifted his hand and caressed her cheekbone with the back of his fingers.

"The only one," he repeated her words, although to him, they had a different meaning. Her eyes sparkled in the dim shine of the moonlight; they fell shut as he turned his hand and touched her face with his fingertips. Claire breathed in deeply and opened her eyes again. He smiled at her; she smiled back; he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. It was a short, soft kiss; just a fraction of a second long; it was over before she could even understand what was happening. Leon pulled back and left her longing for more. They held gazes until Claire shifted and shied away. He chuckled at her reaction as her look dropped.

"What is this?" she asked as she took the crank from Leon's hands and inspected it. He eyes drifted to the music box on their left. "Do you think this is…" She pushed the tool into the little hole on the right side of the box. It entered as if it had been made for it. Leon stood next to her as she twirled the handle and the box began to click and move.

It played a soft lullaby she didn't recognize, but as the music played, the room seemed more peaceful to her; at least until something creaked and rumbled in the other bedroom. Her frightened gaze flew to Leon, who frowned and drew his handgun again as he walked out of the room. Claire followed him into the first bedroom, where they found that a ladder had dropped from the ceiling.

"An attic?" He hissed as he approached the retractable ladder and shone the flashlight into the dark hole. "Stay here and cover me," he asked Claire before he pushed the flashlight between his teeth and climbed up the stairs.

If the house below had been dusty, the attic was a desert. Leon coughed as soon as he reached the upper level, as the scratching particles invaded his windpipe. He checked if anything moved in there, and climbed onto the wooden floor as soon as he considered the area safe enough. The attic was full of old wooden boxes and empty shelves. But at the other end of the room there seemed to stand something.

"What do you see?" Claire called from below.

"Not much," he replied. "But give me a second." The roof was so low he had to bent down to not hit his head. After walking several feet, he managed to identify the object that was standing on the other side of the room. It was a desk with some papers on it. He kept walking forward until something moved on his right and startled him. A mouse jumped out from behind one of the boxes, and Leon smirked in relief. He reached the desk and found an open envelope on it. A letter addressed to a man called Charles Stiller.

_Dad,_

_I am deeply sorry that I hurt you, but I can't stand the shame that this family has brought upon me. I don't want to blame you, nor Erick, but I hope you understand that it is hard for me to accept that I don't know who I am anymore. Don't get me wrong, I don't blame you for your condition, but for how you tried to hide it from me. I respect you, Erick and what you feel for each other, but I need to leave this all behind so I can find my true identity._

_Please, take care of Sophie, as I can't take her with me either. Keep playing the play for her. She loves her granny so much. I hope you don't make the same mistake a second time, I don't think her fragile personality would get over it._

_I hope you can forgive me someday._

_Love,_

_Caitlyn_

Leon kept the letter in the envelope and chewed on his lower lip. He supposed Caitlyn was the daughter of the couple on the picture they had found before; and Sophie's mother. The question was; who was Erick? Having a bad feeling about who it might be, Leon continued searching for useful stuff on the desk. In the upper drawer, he found an old picture of two men in uniform and a big silver key. The label on the chain said  _barn_. He smiled victoriously and proceeded to have a closer look at the photograph. It showed two men, soldiers, it seemed, sitting next to each other on what looked like a rock. Leon turned the picture and read the note on the back.

"Charles and Erick, Kelley Barracks, Stuttgart, 1964." Leon furrowed a brow. "They met in the US Army I suppose." He turned the picture again and inspected the two faces. Both were somehow familiar. Leon took the key, the letter and the picture and turned on his heels to get back down. When he was halfway through the attic, something moved in the shadows again. The mouse, probably.

Claire was waiting downstairs, pointing her gun at the door and keeping an eye on the two dead B.O.W.s next to her. Leon had been quiet for some time and she'd considered calling after him, but she then heard his footsteps again. But not only that.

"Shit!" She heard his voice coming from the attic, followed by gunshots and a distinctive galloping sound. She sucked in a breath and aimed for anything that might come down the stairs, considering going up herself. However, after two more gunshots, silence came. Her heart rate rose to tachycardia.

"Leon?" She called before pushing her flashlight between her teeth and preparing to climb up the stairs.

"I'm alright," he replied and his approaching footsteps made Claire stay where she was. Leon peeked through the door in the ceiling and proceeded to climb down. "Just a zombie dog."

Claire frowned.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" she shone her flashlight onto his legs, but Leon laughed.

"Hey, I'm a pro," he said smirking and handed her the items he'd collected.

"Oh, the barn key, good," she said as she flicked through the papers. "So, Caitlyn is Sophie's mother and Charles her granddad. And Erick?" She frowned at Leon, who walked to the nightstand and picked up the picture he had dropped before.

"I think the answer is here." He handed her the picture. Claire had a short look at it before she held it close to the one of the soldiers. Her eyebrows jumped up.

"So," she murmured and pointed at the dead creature on the ground. "Charles…" Her finger then waved to the one in the bed. "And Erick." She sighed. "That explains the mutation. I mean, if this is really the T-Phobos we encountered six years ago."

Leon nodded.

"I suppose Sophie eventually found out that her granny was a dude," Leon said.

"And had a breakdown," Claire completed his sentence. "Oh, poor girl."

Leon cleared his throat; he took a step towards Claire and put his hand on her shoulder.

"We will find her," he said and earned a smile from his redhead. "Let's see what we find in the barn."

 


	25. The So

_Scotch was a good companion for those lonely nights. It warmed your heart and never judged you. Leon stood on his balcony, staring into the glass and wondering if the S. in Leon S. Kennedy didn't actually stand for Scotch. Leon Scotch Kennedy, yeah, that didn't even sound that bad._

_He had recently returned from Tatchi, Lanshiang, China, with bruises on almost every spot on his body. But those were easy to treat in comparison with those on his soul, because this time, he had seen so much more than just B.O.W.s eating people. He had seen Adam eating someone._

_Leon's head dropped against the bannister. He hadn't been able to save him. He had failed his friend and the whole world. How hadn't he seen it coming? Not even 24 hours prior to the outbreak, Adam had revealed to him that he was going to break the silence and tell every little awful truth about Raccoon City and how bad it had been handled. He was playing with the interests of many people; so, there had to be someone among them who'd do everything to stop him. That someone had been Derek C. Simmons. Leon blew out a breath. It didn't really surprise him; hadn't Claire always mistrusted that guy?_

_He thought about Claire and wondered how she was doing. They hadn't spoken in a very long time, but he was sure he had run into her missing brother for a reason. Leon furrowed a brow. Yeah, sure. Claire would surely want to hear more about how he had pulled a gun on Big Redfield. And all because of Ada Wong — or someone who looked like her. Also, oh, she had probably heard about his death, too. Oh, geez, she was going to be so pissed._

_He pulled out his phone, wondering if it was a good idea to call her that late at night, when the device started buzzing in his hand._

" _Hunnigan," he greeted the woman as soon as her picture popped onto the screen. "Any news?"_

_The operator smiled into the camera and had him thinking she should do it more often. Looked good on her. "So, all the information you have handed over has been analyzed and you have been declared innocent by the commission, Agent Kennedy. You're a free man now."_

" _Thank god, I thought I would have to check into luxury hotels under false name for the rest of my life." He said cynically and Hunnigan laughed. Declared dead or not, she always used very creative false names to book his hotel stays._

" _You might be happy to hear that Agent Harper has been absolved, too."_

_Leon huffed out a laugh. Helena was a good girl who had gotten into contact with the wrong people, and she surely had done everything to take Simmons down. Seeing her sister become a B.O.W. after all her efforts to save her was punishment enough. And yet, a part of him couldn't stop blaming her._

" _Does she know already?"_

_The woman shook her head. "I wasn't going to tell her until tomorrow morning, she's expressed the wish to see her sister's grave before going to jail. Is it mean to leave her in doubt a little longer?"_

_He shrugged amusedly. It surely was, but Helena had kept him waiting for answers for about two hours while he had been following her blindly through infected Tall Oaks._

" _The longer the wait, the bigger the surprise."_

" _I believe that, too." An almost bratty smirk popped onto the operator's face as she spoke. "By the way, there have been important losses among the B.S.A.A. as well."_

_His eyes darted to the screen. Chris. Chris was dead._

" _Redfield?"_

_Fortunately, Hunnigan shook her head again. Of course, it wasn't Chris. If anything had happened to her brother, Claire would have called him, wouldn't she?_

" _No. But he's the only survivor of their Alpha Team," Hunnigan said. "I thought you'd want to know that."_

_Leon nodded and sighed. The B.S.A.A. captain was surely devastated after losing so many men, but, at least, it wasn't Chris himself._

" _Am I late for the funerals?" Leon asked, aware of the B.S.A.A.'s habit to honor their fallen soldiers properly. He'd had to attend Adam's ceremony in disguise and only with Hunnigan's help, as he was on house arrest until the evidence would be overanalyzed."_

" _You can still make it to Piers Nivans' ceremony tomorrow," she replied. "I'm booking you a flight to New York for tomorrow."_

_Leon nodded._

" _Thanks." He hung up and stared into the night. How silent the city was. Leon let go a deep sigh and filled his glass again. He drank for the fallen B.S.A.A. soldiers, for all those innocent people who had lost their lives in Tall Oaks and Lanshiang — and for Benford._

_And he had never felt that tiny._

* * *

–  **XXIV –**

**The So**

The barn was a metal structure and was sealed with a thick chain and an old silver padlock. The key Leon had found in the attic opened the lock easily and they could remove the chain and the bar that also had been used to block the door.

"What do you think we're going to find in there?" Claire asked before they pushed the door open. Leon shrugged.

"Not sure, but it needs to be something big if they keep the key to it in the attic." He eyed Claire, who smirked and reached for the shotgun on her back. Together, they pushed open the heavy doors to the building. Nothing seemed to move inside. Leon flicked his flashlight on to see better. So far, all it showed was a large amount of straw.

"Oh man." Claire sighed. "Now we have to find the needle in the haystack."

Leon blew out a breath. Whatever there was in there, if they needed to look for it in the straw, this quest was getting absurdly tedious. The piles of straw weren't even ten feet high, but it was enough to complicate the search for anything that was smaller than a shotgun.

"Anyway," he murmured as he walked further into the storage. Let's see what we find without digging."

Claire followed him. The straw was stacked into piles on both sides of the barn, leaving a long path in the middle. They advanced slowly, watching out for anything that moved.

"So," Leon said suddenly. "How have you been these months?"

Claire chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, I was working a bit." She turned to him and smirked. "But I guess Chris told you that already. He always complains about it."

He laughed nodding.

"He did. He seemed worried."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"He's exaggerating. It's not very stressful. I didn't get back into my old job, because I think Moira is doing great in that position." She said smirking proudly. "So I've just been travelling to our different camps to see how they were doing. I wrote some reports and then I started helping with the Supply Chain Management."

Leon huffed cynically. "Yeah, doesn't sound stressful at all."

Claire laughed.

"It's mainly organization and planning," she said shrugging as they kept walking through the straw and looking for anything useful on their way through the barn. They didn't find anything until they reached the other side of the building. There they found a hammermill, a large funnel and a metal container below. Inspecting the machinery, they found that the bottom of the funnel was closed with a cover and another padlock on it. Claire rolled her eyes and looked impatiently at Leon, who blew out a breath.

"Do you think the key is-" He waved his hand to the stacks. "There?"

Claire pursed her lips and gave their upcoming task a disapproving glance.

"There must be some way to do this quickly."

She didn't know how right she was, and had she known, she'd probably preferred doing it the long way. The moment they decided to walk towards the straw and start searching, something rattled above them.

"Claire!" Leon shouted and jumped to his side, pushing Claire into the straw, right before the huge B.O.W. impacted against the spot where they'd just stood. He turned his head to have a look at what had come down. It was ten feet tall, full of scars and stitches; and it wore a torch and an urn in its arms. "What the fuck is that?"

Claire looked up and recognized the creature.

"Leon, run! Away from the straw!"

They hopped onto their feet and ran towards the door, the torch B.O.W. right behind them. When they had left the flammable straw behind them, Claire turned.

"Aim for the head!" she shouted as she pointed the shotgun at the creature's head. "Come on, you huge baby!"

Leon, some more feet away, chuckled at Claire's comment and pulled out the assault rifle. The B.O.W. looked indeed like a toddler as the sheets around its hips reminded him of diapers. He watched Claire shoot twice before she jumped back and reloaded the shotgun. The creature shook its head after being hit, but soon started to laugh as it swung its torch into Claire's direction. Before it could get her, though, Leon fired at its head and the B.O.W. stumbled backwards as Claire ran past it. She turned and aimed her reloaded shotgun at the creature from behind, giving it another two shots to the head before she ran back to Leon, reloading the weapon during the sprint.

Leon kept attacking the creature from a slightly further distance, until it groaned in anger and started drumming the torch against the urn.

"Fuck, be careful!" Claire shouted as she pushed the barrel back into place. "It's coming!"

And the B.O.W. started running towards them. The earth quaked under their feet every time the creature set foot onto the ground. Leon and Claire dashed out of the way into opposite directions, Leon closer towards the door; Claire towards the straw stacks.

The creature turned and laughed again before it pushed the flaming torch into the urn in its hands. The content began to boil and burn and it shot a huge arrow of fire into Claire's direction. The redhead rolled to her side and could avoid being burnt. However, the flames hit the straw. The whole content of the barn was burning in a matter of seconds.

"Fuck," Claire hissed as she turned back to the B.O.W., which was still laughing its ass off. God, she hated those Vulcan Bubblers. She had encountered four of them in her past. One with Jill and Neil in that underground lab in the abandoned mine; three on Alex Wesker's creepy island. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was those two events had been related.

The fire burnt happily; not as happy as the B.O.W. before them maybe, as it was apparently having a great time chasing them. Claire lifted an eyebrow and searched for Leon on the other side of the barn. He was panting, currently reloading the rifle and getting ready to fire again. She took a step forward and aimed for the one, glowing eye in the creature's face.

"Time to go to bed, baby!" She fired the shotgun empty a third time and the B.O.W. began to stumble backwards. It lifted its torch and tried again to hit her, but before it could impact on her, Leon began to shoot from behind until the torch fell to the ground and the B.O.W. dropped onto its butt next to it. With a grunting, it gave its last gasp, Leaving Leon and Claire standing in the burning barn looking at each other.

"What now?" Claire asked staring at the straw-consuming fire. Leon shrugged.

"First, we get out and breathe," he suggested. "Then, we think."

He opened the door and they walked out and sat on the ground before the barn, watching the fire inside. Leon pulled out his pack of cigarettes.

"You serious? Haven't had enough smoke in there?" Claire arched a brow. Leon shrugged and silently offered her the package with a grin.

"Want one?"

Claire huffed and accepted the offer.

They sat together in front of the burning barn and listened to the fire.

"I dropped the flashlight in there," Claire confessed and sighed as she took a drag.

"Got any more in the car?" Leon asked and got a headshake as response. "Alright, then we will have to share one."

Claire blew out the smoke of the last drag.

"I think the fire is extinguishing. Maybe we're lucky and can see what's inside," she smelled her sleeve and grimaced. "I smell like the kitchen when Chris cooks."

Leon laughed and got onto his feet before he helped her up. They walked back into the barn, careful not to inhale too much of the smoke that still emerged from the stacks. Most of it was burned, though, and only black coal and ashes were left. Claire removed her coat as she feared it was too flammable for the environment, and showed her slim figure under a skin-tight black cotton blouse. She had gained some weight, Leon noticed, but even after all those months, including Christmas time, she still looked fragile and thin. Claire kicked through the ashes.

"The key can't be very big. If it's here, we might miss it easily," she said as he kept searching for the key or any other useful stuff, but all she found was more coal and ashes. She grunted.

Leon had started on the left side of the barn. As his look drove over the metal walls, he thought he should have built the barn for the girls of a more resistant material than wood; the metal structure had withstood the high temperatures of the fire and their fight earlier. He clicked his tongue and kept searching in the burnt straw for the key.

"There's something here!" Claire shouted from the other side of the building.

"Is it your melted flashlight?" Leon laughed.

"No, it's not," she giggled, turned and held up a small box of Magnum ammunition. "But it's not a key either. This was behind a stack that hasn't burnt." Leon smirked and tilted his head.

"That's good news." He caught the box Claire threw at him and loaded the revolver before he went back to searching in the ashes. The key couldn't be very far. Just as he thought that, he found a shining object on the ground and bent down. "I have the key."

Claire turned to him and gave him a short nod as he held the object up and started walking towards the mill and funnel they had found before. The machinery was now covered with soot and the metal still burning hot, but the key fitted perfectly. As it turned, it opened the cover and tons of dead maggots fell into the container. They looked at each other in disgust.

"They must have gotten roasted in the heat," Leon observed and Claire nodded. A loud clonk was heard among the falling larvae and made them look up.

"That's what we're looking for," Leon hissed, grimaced and pushed his hand into the mount of maggots, searching for the object that had just fallen into the container. He'd never been that happy something was dead already. "Okay, I got it!" He twirled his hand and pulled out a brass rod with a plate on it. "That's…"

"The pendulum from the clock in the living room," Claire muttered. Their looks crossed. "Alright, let's go."

* * *

Claire was the first one to enter the living room, her hands tightly curled around the pendulum. The grandfather clock was waiting for them in the living room, the hands on it seeming to curve a derisive smile as Claire opened the case and knelt down.

"Shine the flashlight into this, would you?"

Leon did as he was asked and Claire managed to put the pendulum into place. She swung the pendulum, but it soon stopped. She turned her head to Leon and grimaced.

"We might have to wind it," she mumbled and let out a deep sigh. Leon waved the flashlight to the clock-face and inspected it.

"I'm not sure, but the crank we found for the music box might work here," he suggested and Claire nodded eagerly.

"Let's try."

They went upstairs to remove the crank from the music box they had played before. When they reached the first floor, they found that the stairs to the attic had been pulled up again. Claire gave Leon a dark glance.

"I'll try your method and just believe that the stairs snapped close on their own," she said and laughed darkly. Leon chuckled.

"Could be," he replied with a grin. "It could also be that someone removed the crank from the music box and caused the stairs to pull up again."

Claire rolled her eyes at his sense of humor, but she walked into Sophie's room a little nervously. Fortunately, the crank was still there.

"At least it means we can wind the clock now," she said as she held the object up triumphantly. They proceeded to get back to the living room.

"Yeah, it seems to fit," Leon said as he pushed the crank into the first hole and turned, moving the first of three weights in the case up until it almost hit the upper wooden seat. He did the same with the other two holes before he considered the old grandfather clock officially winded. "Now move the pendulum."

Claire nodded and gave the pendulum a generous nudge and it started ticking happily in the wooden case. Tick-tock-tock-tick, tick-tock, tock-tick-tock, tick.

They stopped breathing and listened, carefully. They turned their heads to each other and a tiny smile popped onto Claire's lips.

"The code for the drawers," she whispered and Leon walked towards the commode.

"So, the code was four ticks, two ticks, three and one tick, right?"

Claire kept listening to the clock to confirm the code and nodded. "Yes."

"Alright," Leon replied and began pulling out drawers to check the clicks of every one of them. "So, the first one clicks once; the second one three times; the third one four times and the last one twice." He started over again, pulling the third drawer, followed by the last one; then he proceeded to pull out the second drawer and the upper one was the last. They waited and listened until something clicked loudly in the hall way.

Claire's heart nearly jumped out of her chest as she heard the noise. She and Leon ran into the hallway and searched for the origin of the sound, ready to kill whatever could have caused it.

There was no need to kill anything. The sound had come from a hidden door under the stairs to the upper floor. It squeaked loudly as Leon pushed it further open and shone the flashlight down the dark stairs.

"A basement," Claire complained and rolled her eyes. "Of course, there had to be a basement."

Leon clenched his teeth. He'd have preferred staying over ground as well, but it looked like the only way to find Sophie. He looked one last time at Claire before he swung the flashlight in his hand and began to walk down the stairs.

* * *

The basement was as dark as the inside of a buried coffin and it stunk like a sewer. It was full of metal tanks, pipes and valves, that somehow led their way through the lower level. It was cold, and Claire regretted not wearing warmer clothes than just a blouse under her coat. Anyway, it was far better than walking through Antarctica in just a T-shirt. She chuckled as she remembered how she'd always rubbed the barrel of the guns she had recently fired into her palms to warm her hands up.

As Claire thought about that past adventure, she saw a shadow move close to them. Her eyes darted to Leon; he had seen it too. They exchanged short gazes and kept walking forward. When they turned the next corner of pipes, they heard a clunk as something dropped onto the floor not far away from them.

"Shit," a voice hissed and Claire held her breath.

"Sophie?" she whispered to Leon as she watched him chewing on his lower lip. He gave her a sign and they kept moving until they found a locked sliding metal door.

"This requires a code or an access card, maybe even both," Claire hissed as she inspected the device that kept the door shut. She turned and looked at Leon. "We'll have to find another way."

He nodded and turned back to the hall and the surroundings. There was a narrow passage between two large containers and they forced themselves through it; Claire first, Leon after her. When the redhead had almost reached the other side, she spotted something — someone — kneeling on the floor.

"Hey!" she called out softly, not wanting to scream too loud; the figure got up and ran away. "Wait!" Claire hissed as she stepped out from behind the container.

"What was that?" Leon asked her and Claire shook her head.

"I'm not sure," she said and turned to the spot where she'd found the person. There were glass shards in a puddle on the floor. Claire knelt down and inhaled. "Vinegar."

"Like the pickles in the kitchen?" Leon asked and frowned. He took a deep breath and turned around. "Alright, I haven't heard of a B.O.W. that eats pickles, but that doesn't mean they don't exist."

Claire sighed.

"It could be Sophie." She got up and pushed past Leon into the direction the mysterious person had taken. Leon followed her in silence through the basement. Suddenly, another sound was heard and Claire ran forward until the end of the path. "Hey! Wait."

Leon managed to shine the flashlight onto the shape of a blonde girl, dressed in a long, white nightgown. Surprised by Claire, she dropped onto her knees and crawled through a gap between two pipes and behind a container. Claire ran after her.

She knelt down in front of the gap where the girl had disappeared and peeked into it. "Hey, it's okay. I just want to help you."

Leon stood next to the redhead and shone the light into the gap. "You see something?" he asked. Claire nodded and moved a little to her side so he could see better. There in the shadows, they spotted the girl, frightened and shivering. She seemed to be much older than the girl they had seen on that family picture. She was thin and filthy.

"Hi," Claire spoke in a soft voice and smiled. "Are you Sophie?"

The girl flinched at first, but the nodded. Claire kept smiling and blew out a breath.

"Good," she said. "I'm Claire and that's my friend Leon." She turned and pointed at the blond behind her. "We'll get you out of here."

Sophie blinked at Claire, afraid of the ray of light that barely touched her. Shivering, she embraced her legs.

"Go away!"

Claire took a deep breath and kept speaking soft words to the girl.

"It's alright, Sophie. I know you are afraid," she whispered. "But we're not going to hurt you. You're safe now."

But the girl in the shadows flinched as Claire reached her hand out for her.

"No!" she yelled. "You want to take my baby from me."

Leon watched Claire's reaction; those words seemed to hurt her, as she sighed deeply and shook her head.

"We only want the best for you and your baby, Sophie." She reached her hand out for her again. "Come out, I promise we won't hurt you."

Silence followed. While Claire was trying to speak to Sophie, Leon kept his eyes on the surroundings. You never knew what would jump at you from the darkness as he'd decided to let Claire do the talking, it was only natural that he'd watch out for any danger. However, the danger didn't come from behind. The raging girl in the shadows hissed as she threw something at Claire. The redhead jumped onto her feet as she realized she was being attacked and the jar of pickles that had been thrown at her broke into pieces, missing her boots by inches. Sophie took the chance and spurted out of her hideout and into the darkness of the halls, leaving bloody footprints behind after cutting her feet with the shards on the ground.

"Shit," Claire yelled as she turned and sprinted after the girl. "Why do those little girls all run from me? I just want to help."

Leon couldn't help but chuckle at the comparison. Sherry had run from her in Raccoon City; Natalia had run from her on Sushestvovanie; but now, both girls adored her like the mother of humanity. Sophie would adore her, too. Before he spun and ran after Claire, he found something on the ground next to the contents of the broken jar.

* * *

Claire heard a door slide open as she ran through the dark hallways and guessed it was the electronic door they'd found before. Apparently, the girl was fast. Claire followed the dark footprints the girl was leaving as best as she could in the darkness. Where the fuck was Leon with the flashlight? She barely saw where she was running to. Claire cursed when the footprints led her to a dead end.

"Fuck!" Sophie had crawled through a tiny gap between two containers. Claire turned around and searched for the spot where she and Leon had come through before. Once she'd found it, she climbed through the gap again and ran back to the door they'd found before. It was hard to see the blood in the darkness, but after a closer look, Claire was sure that Sophie had gone through the door she had in front. "Sophie!" she called. "Come on, please. We just want to help."

She heard footsteps behind her and turned. Leon was climbing through the gap.

"You alright?" he asked and Claire nodded sighing.

"I think she's behind the door."

Leon nodded and pulled out a blue plastic card.

"I found this on the ground. Maybe it works," he said as he pushed the card through the reader. It worked; the door unlocked and slid open. A bright light shone down onto them and Claire immediately ran into the next room.

She stood in a huge room with blank walls. It looked and smelled sterile, like a hospital. The room was filled with a white light that reached even the narrowest of corners. It was empty, except for the tanks and consoles on the other end. There was just one door other than the one they had come from, and it lay on the opposite wall.

"Sophie?" Claire called into the room, not getting any answer. They approached the console to see what they would find there. It seemed to be some sort of monitoring machine, equipped with different screens, millions of buttons and levers. It seemed to be turned off. Next to the panel there was a gap in the table, some sort of metal box with a glass cover over it. Claire inspected it closer. Inside, there was barely room for a pumpkin, but tubes and cables hung from the walls into the container. They weren't connected to anything, though. Before she could open the container to have a closer look at the connectors, a small sound come from behind the other door. Claire and Leon exchanged a quick look of agreement before they ran towards it. Leon flicked the card over the access device and the door opened.

The previous room had been a long, empty hall, but this was the opposite. It was small and cozy, held in the dim shine of fairy lights that hung from the ceiling along with soft, cream-colored curtains, assembled like a false ceiling all through the room. There was a large bed on one side of the room, a small desk on the other one, and several bookshelves in random corners. Dark carpets covered the floor. Someone had drawn butterflies in all colors onto the walls. Classical music was playing. The only technological equipment in this room was a weird machine next to the bed. Leon slowly walked through the room. Nobody was there, it seemed. What had they heard before? Leon found a door in a dark corner next to the desk and drew his gun as he reached for the handle.

"Leon?" He turned around. Claire was bent over the device next to the bed. It was a machine equipped with a metal basket, something like the one she had encountered in the room outside, next to the control panel, but this one was bigger. Leon turned to her and gave her a curious glance. "There is a baby in here."

His mouth dropped open as he approached Claire in front of the device. Now that they knew what was inside, it actually looked like some kind of crib. In there, there was indeed a small newborn child, wrapped in a blanket and put onto a soft cushion. It didn't move.

"Oh lord," Claire whimpered as her hand approached the child's cheek. The moment she touched it, the baby in the crib started to shift and screamed out a full-throated cry. "Oh, thank god, you're alive. Shhhh." She carefully took the baby into her arms and cradled it softly as Leon watched the surroundings. The screams could have attracted someone's attention. When the baby stopped crying, he turned back to Claire.

"This is Sophie's child, I assume," he whispered and Claire nodded, furrowing her brows in pain.

"I think so, yes." She softly caressed the child's forehead and smiled at it. It was so tiny; so sweet and soft as it cried it's heart out. Claire had always loved children and she felt so connected to the tiny being that had been born in chaos. "We're going to get you and your mommy out of here, I promise," she whispered. "You'll be safe."

Leon ground his teeth. This was getting complicated.

"Wait here," he asked Claire as he turned back to the door he hadn't opened before. Before he could turn the handle, the door came flying into his face and pushed him back. The blonde figure that came running out of the tiny bathroom that lay behind, sprinted towards Claire. The redhead tried to stop her, but the girl was fast. She jumped against Claire's shoulders while she grabbed the bundle. Claire let go of the baby and stumbled backwards onto the bed.

"Sophie, please. We don't want to hurt you or take your baby away from you," Claire spoke in a calm, warm voice. "You have to believe us."

Sophie stood in the middle of the room, panting, her arms curled tightly around her child.

"Where is Fritjof?" She hissed. Claire gasped out a sigh and smiled comfortingly at the girl in front.

"He won't hurt you anymore," she said. "He's dead."

Claire had never seen a face so cold and empty like Sophie's when she heard about Vång's death. It went from rosy and full to a pale-grey in just one second.

"Dead?" the girl whispered as she narrowed her eyes at Claire, who nodded. Right afterwards, Sophie began to laugh and scream. "Liar! Liar!" She ran quickly towards the door to the empty room. "Fritjof can't die. He cannot die!"

Claire jumped onto her feet and tried to catch the girl before she sprinted out of the room, but she failed. Her look flew to Leon, who was getting up again. He panted.

"Claire," he said hastily cleared his throat. "Maybe we should consider the possibility that Sophie isn't a mere victim here."

Claire clenched her teeth and nodded.

"I know," she replied gasping. "I know."

Something shattered through the next room and the pair turned to the door, following Sophie's footsteps. They found the girl standing in front of the control panel, with the child in her arms and a mad look in her eyes. Facing Claire and Leon, she laughed and pulled out a syringe.

"You fools! Fritjof is soon coming back!" Her shrill laughter filled the whole room as she twirled the syringe nervously between her tiny fingers.

"Alright, Sophie," Leon gave her a sign to stop and calm down. "Listen, you had your fun. But don't harm your child," he pleaded. "Your baby is innocent."

And Sophie's laughter turned into quiet sobs.

"My child?" She asked. "I would never do any harm to my baby-girl." She smiled widely, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Fritjof gave her to me. She is my everything."

"Good," Leon smiled. "So, don't infect her, please. Put that syringe away and come with us. We will take you out and to a real place to stay."

Before Sophie could understand what Leon was telling her, he had already advanced halfway towards her. She shied away and grimaced.

"No!" A high-pitched cry ran through the room and startled the baby girl, who started crying in her mother's arms. "You just want to take us back to St. Peter's. I won't let that happen!" Sophie removed the cap of the syringe.

"Sophie, don't!" Claire jumped forward, but it was too late. They could only stand there and watch as Sophie rammed the needle into her neck and injected herself the content.

Under convulsion, the girl began to grow. As her quivering limbs got larger and longer, the baby in her arms dared slide out of her hands. Leon sprinted forward, throwing himself onto the floor under the mutating woman, and caught the bundle during the fall.

"Got her!" He screamed as he rolled to his feet and ran back to Claire, who was staring abstractedly at the creature Sophie was becoming. "Take the baby, Claire, and get out," he commanded as he pushed it into her arms.

Claire sobbed a little as the image of the turning Sophie burned itself into her mind, but she took the baby into her grasp. Sophie was already looking like the beast Neil had become right in front of her when Alex Wesker had given him the sample of Uroboros he so strived for by injecting it to him. Hadn't she encountered enough reminders of that island that night? Had Sophie been infected with the T-Phobos as well? The child in Claire's arms was crying loudly. Her eyes darted at Leon. She didn't want to leave him alone in the battle, but someone needed to take the baby out. She swallowed.

"Be careful," she whispered and he turned to her.

"I will."

As Claire got up to sprint to the door, Leon turned on his heels and pulled out the Magnum he had found earlier in the bathroom upstairs. Sophie was still shaking badly, howling the torment of the mutation through the air. Arms stretched, she wobbled and turned as the last of muscles on her body puffed up like popcorn and Uroboros' distinctive wormy tentacles covered her arm and chest. The white nightgown she had worn before was torn and the shreds of it hang loosely around her waist.

"Yes!" she screamed when the pain ceased and her cries turned into laughter. "Yes, this is power! I can feel it! I will-"

Her introductive monologue was cut by two bullets that hit her head, piercing through her chin and coming out on the other side of her skull. Sophie stumbled backwards against the control panel. Leon quirked an eyebrow, the Magnum steady in his hands.

"No, you won't!"

Sophie roared and bent up again; smeary, dark blood dripping from her head. The hateful smile on her face would make the bravest men shudder. Leon swallowed, praying he had enough bullets to bring that thing down. When Sophie started sprinting towards him, he shot her a third time in the head before he had to roll to his right. She would have made him mousse, stamping him into the wall behind. Leon leaped to his feet again. Sophie had stopped right in front of the wall and turned to him.

"You fool! Do you believe you can show up here and take my child?" She threw her arm into his direction again and nearly hit him. Leon sidestepped her attack and ran behind her, giving one shot to Sophie's chest with the magnum. She flinched and stopped for a second, and Leon knew he had found her weak spot.

"You're wrong. We're here to help you!" he hissed, firing against her chest a second time when the mutated girl turned to him. A golden bulge grew out of the tentacles. It looked like the heart Wesker had shown; A heart that supposed to be a distinctive feature of Uroboros as well. Leon shot it twice more.

"Liar!" Sophie screamed as she yelped in pain, and immediately stretched her arm into the air to grab hold of a tube on he ceiling, avoiding Leon's shots. The last bullet in the revolver missed its target. He blindly pushed a hand into his pocket to grab more ammo while he kept an eye on the B.O.W. that was flying above his head. The temperature around them rose.

Sophie dropped onto the ground only a few feet away from him, causing the whole room to quake. Leon staggered. He saw the arm flying towards his face, but couldn't dodge it this time. It impacted against his chest and took his breath as it slammed him onto the control panel. Leon hit the edge of it and heard something creak in his lower back. He slid to the ground, gasping for air as blood filled his lungs. His feet wouldn't work, so he just sat there, choking on his own blood. Luckily, the virus in him would soon heal any wounds and injuries. He'd only need a minute, maybe two.

His sight of Sophie got hazy and her laughter sounded muffled in his ears. However, he could see that the B.O.W. turned to the door through which Claire had disappeared earlier and just kicked it down. Sophie left the room right before he fainted.

* * *

Claire had run out of the white room and into the dark hallways and immediately cursed herself for not taking the flashlight with her. She pulled out her phone and tried to contact Jill, but she had no phone signal down in the basement. However, the light of her screen helped her walk safely through the darkness.

"Shhhh, it's alright. I'm getting you out." Claire spoke quietly to the baby girl in her arms, who wouldn't stop crying and was twisting like a fish. Carrying that heavy bundle through the darkness as she lit up the place wasn't easy, but at least it would distract her from the sound of gunshots coming from the room she had left behind. Claire made her way around the tanks and pipes, following the same path she had walked earlier in the opposite direction. When she caught sight of the basement stairs, she sighed in relief and grabbed the baby a little tighter. She'd soon be out. However, a sudden rumble came from behind and she knew immediately it had been the door to the empty room; that it had been kicked open and that I had most definitely not been Leon.

"Shit."

A loud shriek came from the back corner of the room and Claire started sprinting. Something swooshed over her head and she ducked as sparks flew around her. All of a sudden, the air was boiling. She stopped right in front of the staircase as the flying something that was chasing her crashed into the wall. Hopefully, their way out wasn't blocked. Claire sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards as Sophie got up right in front of her. The girl was radiating heat like a firework as she walked towards Claire, who was trying to hold up the shotgun as she held on to the screaming child.

"You!" she hissed, almost in flames. "Give me my child back."

Claire pressed the baby between her chest and elbow as her hand grabbed de shotgun and held it stable. Before Sophie could jump against her, she got to fire twice into the B.O.W.'s chest and caused her to stop and scream, a chance Claire used to turn around and run into the other direction, back towards the empty room.

But Sophie didn't wait for her to run away. She dashed after Claire and threw her arm after her. The redhead dropped the shotgun as she fell and rolled over the ground, still holding her baby protectively against her chest.

"Fuck!" she hissed once on her feet again. "Stop attacking me or you'll kill her!"

It wasn't the first time she tried to argue with a B.O.W., and it wasn't the first time it was useless. Sophie kept chasing her through the halls, targeting her easily thanks to the crying girl in her arms.

"She is mine! Give her back to me!"

Claire ran around the last pipe before she saw the gap in the wall to the empty, white room. The door had been ripped out and lay uselessly on the ground. Maybe Leon was still inside. She needed to reach him. Claire started a sprint towards the room, but before she could get to the gap, Sophie crashed her whole ton-weight onto the ground right before her and caused her to stand back. The B.O.W. started threatening her, causing her to step back until she corralled her against one of the tanks.

Claire's fingers crawled under her coat and into the holster. She took hold of the gun the moment her back touched the tank. Sophie and her burning core were so close, Claire could feel the ends of her hair curl under the heat. She sighed heavily as she drew her gun on the B.O.W. and began to shoot. Sophie groaned in pain as the first bullets hit their target. She turned and hit one of the tanks next to her. A wave of liquid spilled from the container right onto her and refreshed her boiling body. It also pushed Claire onto the ground. The water was freezing cold and she grew stiff under the impact, clinging to the baby in her left arm and the pistol in her right hand.

The water flushed around the floor and Claire rolled over the ground, barely noticing her bones. She gasped for air and coughed up water, but she was alive. Her head turned and she saw Sophie still standing in front of the container after her cold shower, the hot steam around her shoulders was dissipating slowly. The B.O.W. still didn't seem to pay attention to her. She could lay there on the ground in the dark and Sophie didn't even turn to her.

Claire sucked in a breath as she noticed the silence.

"No!" she hissed and put her ear close to the infant in her arms. She had not only stopped crying, she wasn't breathing either. Claire put the baby onto the ground and pushed herself up to bend over the tiny body. Giving Sophie one last glance, she opened the baby's jaw and tilted her head back, before covering her lips and nose with her mouth. Sophie was starting to react. Screaming loud, she squeaked and turned, about to run towards Claire and the child. The redhead watched the B.O.W. from the corner of an eye as she carefully blew air into the infant's mouth.

Sophie was already running towards them with heavy, earth-quaking footsteps when Claire began to press down the child's chest.

"One, two, three, four," she counted as she kept one eye on the approaching B.O.W. "Sophie stop. She's not breathing! Let me help her."

But Sophie didn't stop. Completely stupefied with Uroboros, she kept rushing towards Claire and the baby, and the redhead started to wonder if it was the right time to stop the CPR on the child before they would both be smashed by the B.O.W.

"Thirty," she counted the last time she pressed the chest down. She needed to get up or not only the baby would die. Sophie was menacingly close. Claire was about to grab the infant and keep running when a shot thundered through the darkness.

"Claire!" Leon's voice rang among the gunshots. "Are you alright?"

She wept. "I am. But the baby, Leon… Keep her away from us, please."

That had been his plan in the first place. After his wounds had healed, Leon had quickly grabbed the revolver again and had run after Sophie into the dark hallway. She was close enough not to require any flashlight to see in the dark. He could smell her and feel her heat. He hadn't known how close she had been from turning his wife and the baby into mashed potatoes; he had just understood that he needed to stop her and had begun to fire his Magnum.

Sophie forgot about Claire and the baby and turned around to catch Leon again. When she sprinted towards him, the former agent showed that even after nine months away from the field, he was still in perfect shape. He dodged the B.O.W.'s next attack with an elegant sidestep before he rushed towards her and jumped against her chest, holding on to her shoulder and placing the barrel of the Magnum right upon her heart. One, two, three shots; and he had to let go of the burning mass. He leaped back and landed on one foot and a knee. Waving his hands to cool them, he quickly jumped back onto his feet and dashed back into battle. Sophie was staggering and hit one of the tanks. Groaning, she tried to push herself forward again, but the heat in her body seemed to bother her more than Leon, who was already pointing the Magnum at her again. She turned and, arms spread, she screamed her agony into the shadows of the basement, before she convulsed and began ripping out her core with her bare hands.

Leon stood still as he watched her work. As soon as the golden heart was removed from her body, Sophie quivered and collapsed under her own weight. With a loud rattling, she met the ground and lay still. Leon approached her slowly and shone his flashlight onto the mound of Uroboros. He tentacles were still covering her body, sliding over her chest and arm like dark, slimy worms. He sighed. They had come to save her, and now she was dead. Leon clenched his teeth. He couldn't blame himself for other people's actions, but whenever he couldn't save someone, Adam came back to his mind. Adam Benford, his good friend; just one man, but one of those whose silence was the loudest.

His eyes flew to Claire, the savior. She wasn't going to take it well either. Ever since she hadn't been able to save that kid she had met on Rockfort Island, she took every single loss personally. And there were a lot of losses in their line of work. When Leon walked towards the hallway, he found Claire kneeling on the ground. Bent over the tiny body of the child, wither mouth pressed onto the infant's face.

"Claire! Oh, fuck!" He jumped towards them as he watched his wife give the baby CPR. She was wet, shaking and so afraid. She whimpered every time her fingers pressed down the child's chest; and the baby wouldn't wake up. Leon swallowed as he dropped to his knees next to her. It had all been in vain. They had come to rescue Sophie and her child and they had lost them both. "Claire."

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, Stayin' alive, Stayin' Alive," she sang as she kept massaging the girl's chest. The old Bee Gees song did not only have a good beat to follow for the chest compression, it was also the most positive message one could give both victim and rescuer. "Come on. Breathe, please."

She was in tears. While her hands were busy pressing, her mouth screamed to the girl, begging her to wake up. It broke Leon's heart to see her like this. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears off her face before she bent down to give the baby air again.

"Claire," Leon touched her shoulder as he called out for her. They had to accept that, this time, they had failed. He slowly removed his jacket and was about to offer it to Claire when, all of a sudden, the girl on the ground started coughing.

"Oh my god," Claire shrieked in excitement as she checked for other vital signs. "Leon, she's breathing."

"You made it," he said and laid his arm around the redhead. She took the baby carefully into her arms again before she turned her head to Leon and kissed him on the mouth. It was an intense but short peck that barely gave him time to close his eyes and savor it, let alone move his lips over hers. Claire pulled back and stared at him, a little embarrassed.

"Sorry," she gasped. "I just got carried aw-" She couldn't finish her apology as Leon cupped her jaw and pressed his mouth back onto hers, long enough to make her heart melt.

A loud rumble followed by an aching scream pulled them back to reality. Leon turned and saw Sophie on her feet again, running towards them. He drew the Magnum again, but Claire was quicker. Before he could fire, his redhead was already shooting Sophie's head eagerly. The B.O.W. stumbled and collapsed onto the ground, finally giving her last breath.

Leon and Claire looked at each other as the baby in the woman's arms began to scream, startled by the sound of gunshots and her recent recovery.

"We must get her to a hospital," Claire gasped and Leon nodded. He helped Claire up and wrapped his dry, warm jacket around the freezing child.

"Let's not waste any more time."


	26. The Why

_Desperation isn't new to me. The feeling used to haunt me some time ago, before I knew the life I live today. Every time I woke up alone wondering if the breaking day would be my last or my penultimate, or if I'd need to live some more with this consuming uncertainty about my future. There were people in my life, of course; living, human beings; people who respected me; but no one I could call a family. Nobody would have really cared if I'd just faded away some day. Noticed, yes; but not cared. But everything changed when she came into my life. I got so much more than someone to keep me warm at night. She gave me shelter, a family and a second chance. She is with me and everything is perfect - our own kind of perfect. She is my all, everything I need. The reason why I went through so many complications. After all this time I can't imagine my life without her._

_But I feel I'm losing her slowly._

_And my sanity along with her._

" _Fearless girl?" she whispered in a low voice; a voice she had taken from the girl as she had taken her body. "Are you awake?"_

_Natalia had often fallen asleep before her. It was funny how easily the girl drifted into slumber, even when her body was still awake. Sharing a shell with Natalia Korda, now Burton, had been a weird but somehow satisfying experience. Alex smiled softly as she remembered all the good moments she and the teenager had shared. Now, their common body was failing, and their future was threatened. What if the experiments failed too? Would she be able to save them both?_

_Alex admitted, only reluctantly, that she would miss the fellow mind in her head if anything went wrong._

–  **XXV –**

**The Why**

"Alex?"

She had woken up at 6 am. Moira, who had been staying with her that night, was still sound asleep and didn't notice when Natalia started coughing heavily.

"Can you hear me?"

' _Of course, I can hear you. I am inside your head.'_  The voice in her head sounded dark and angry. ' _What is it?'_

Natalia smiled.

"I just wanted to tell you that, despite everything, I had a good time with you. Mostly all those times you weren't busy killing people."

Alex chuckled inside her head.

' _You feel it too, don't you?'_

Natalia sighed.

"I do." Her hand reached up and caressed her own cheek. "I'm sorry my body is so fragile, Alex. I know that you could have done some good things, too; if you'd had the chance to do it."

Alex' laughter ceased.

' _Thank you for believing this, fearless girl. But I think I'm not good at doing stuff other people consider righteous.'_

The girl leaned back in the bed and smiled smoothly.

"Anyway," she said. "I want you to know that it had been a pleasure to meet you, Alex. I learned a lot from you."

Alex snickered.

She had learned a lot from Natalia, too.

* * *

"So, where is Rebecca?" Leon asked.

Doctor Arthur Maddison gave him a chiding glance over his glasses.

"Doctor Chambers had to get back to Chicago to conclude her research there," he said as he flicked through the papers. Leon watched him attentively. He couldn't be much older than thirty, but there was already a clear touch of grey in his brown hair. "But don't worry Mister Kennedy, I have been working with her for many years and I'm fully aware of your medical history."

Leon's eyebrows jumped up at the doctor's statement, wondering of how much he was fully aware.

"Really?"

"Yes. And your secret if safe with me, of course." The man nodded as he snapped the folder shut and made Leon suck in a breath. "Doctor Chambers will be happy to receive some more blood samples from you, as we haven't been able to isolate the G-Manes yet."

The former agent sighed in relief and rolled up his sleeves. "If that's all, take as much as you want, as long as you don't kill me."

"I guess that's supposed to be a joke." The doctor rolled his eyes as he searched in a drawer for the sterile needle and tubs before he slung a rubber band around Leon's upper arm. "Make a fist, please. Good."

"So, do you know anything about the girl we brought?" Leon asked as the silence became too awkward. He hated hospitals as they always insisted on checking on him — and he always had the bad luck to be checked by male staff.

"The pediatrician took care of her, but I ordered blood samples from the infant. We need to secure that she's not contagious, given the conditions you found her in." He smiled. "So, how often do you and your wife go on secret rescue missions in your free time?"

Leon grunted. Right after they had checked that Sophie wouldn't get up again, and after Claire had taken samples from her body, they had gotten out of the basement and into the car with the baby. Claire had notified Jill about their encounter and the blonde had quickly sent a team to the farm. It was surely the B.S.A.A. who had given orders to explore the baby and to discard any risks of infection or an outbreak. Crap. If they found anything unusual in her, they would most probably want to keep her in observation and their whole rescue mission would have been a failure. Another girl in the hands of the government, just like Sherry.

"You'd be surprised."

* * *

Once released from the tight grip of Doctor Maddison, Leon walked through the hospital halls towards the ER. He found Claire sitting on one of those plastic chairs in the waiting room, wrapped in a thick blanket, with her head between her knees and her arms folded in her back of her neck.

"Claire?" he asked concernedly as he put a hand onto her shoulder. "You're alright? Any news?"

The redhead lifted her head and gave him a weak smile. Leon took a seat next to her.

"No news yet. We're still hoping," she said. "I was just thinking of Sophie."

The blond laid his arm around her as she spoke. Claire sighed deeply.

"If we hadn't shown up there she'd still be alive," she whispered. "And that girl wouldn't be an orphan. That is if she makes it."

Leon frowned as his hand stroked over Claire's arm.

"Maybe, but if we hadn't gone, she would have grown up locked away from civilization, surrounded by B.O.W.s and viruses." Claire, you can't blame yourself for helping."

Claire took a deep breath and put her hand onto Leon's. "I hope they can find some living relatives," she whispered.

"Hopefully Caitlyn is still alive," Leon replied thoughtfully. "Although, I don't know if I would leave her with a woman who abandoned her daughter."

Claire turned to him and smiled shyly.

"Well, Caitlyn must have a biological mother, too. Maybe there is a way they can find her," Claire said quietly as she turned to Leon and smiled shyly. "You know? I miss you too."

A smile and a sparkle in their eyes; it was all they needed to know what they wanted. Claire grabbed Leon's collar and pulled him closer, softly bringing her lips to his. God, she had missed his kisses. Leon cupped her jaw as he turned a little further to her and she opened her mouth to him. They were in the waiting room of a hospital; sweaty, wet, dusty and full of blood and guts; and they made out like two horny teenagers. They didn't even care. Whatever had happened in the past months, days, hours stopped mattering as they caressed each other's lips and tongue with their own. They kissed until someone dared clear their throat next to them and made them look up.

"Oh, uhm. Sorry," Claire excused herself, wiping her mouth shyly as she jumped onto her feet in front of Doctor Maddison and the pediatrician. "I was just… I had… Any news?"

The young man gave her a judging glance which she held bravely. Alright, they were in a public place, but the hospital wasn't a church or a graveyard, and she was in her right to kiss her husband wherever she pleased. The pediatrician, an elder man, seemed more amused about their doing. He greeted her cheerfully and advanced to Claire that he brought good news.

"The girl is alright," he said. "We will keep her in observation until tomorrow, but I think she will fully recover. Well done Mrs. Kennedy. You saved her life."

Claire nodded, close to tears, as she heard the doctor speak. Leon stood next to her and held her hand.

"It's what she does. She saves people," he said and earned a warm glance from his wife. "How about the blood test? Any infections? Do you already know if she has living relatives?"

"Uhm, well, you'll see," Doctor Maddison said hesitantly. "I wanted to speak to you about this."

"To us?" Claire exhaled. "Oh, haven't you found anyone?"

"Well," the pediatrician excused himself. "I have to leave now. Doctor Maddison will answer all of your questions."

The couple stared speechlessly after the man before they turned back to Maddison.

"Please, follow me," the young doctor asked and led them into a small room.

"What is it doctor?" Claire asked worriedly. "What is wrong here? Is she infected?"

"Caitlyn Stiller," Leon added. "That's the name of Sophie's mother. Haven't you found her?"

Maddison put his hands onto the table, asking them both to let him speak, before he took out a file of his folder.

"We couldn't find any virus in her bloodline. She is fine," he said and made Claire sigh in relief before he cleared his throat and continued. "You'll see, Mrs. And Mr. Kennedy, the samples you brought us didn't belong to any relative of that girl."

Claire frowned and closed her eyes in confusion.

"You mean Sophie was not her mother?" Leon asked.

The redhead's eyes ripped open again.

"And Vång?" she asked in a whisper. The doctor shook his head.

"Negative."

"What?" Claire blew out a breath. If the girl wasn't Sophie's nor Vång's, where had they taken her from? "Leon, are there more people down there?"

The blond put his hand on her shoulder.

"If there are, Jill will find them," he replied comfortingly. "But they could have also kidnapped the girl."

Claire and Leon looked at each other. That was indeed surprising news and made Claire ease her guilty conscience. Who knew what dreadful destiny they had saved the child from.

"So, even if it's not Sophie's child, have you found any living relatives in your data base?" Claire asked and Doctor Maddison gave her a soft glance over his glasses.

"Actually, that's what I wanted to speak to you about," he said and handed Claire a paper. "We have."

After one last questioning look at the medic, she began to read, Leon looking over her shoulder.

"What?" he hissed.

"Wait," Claire said as she blew out a breath. "What does 99,89% mean and why is my name on this sheet?"

Her look jumped to the doctor as she held Leon's hand tightly. Maddison huffed out a breath.

"She's yours, Mrs. Kennedy."

It was one of those messages you needed to hear twice to even start believing them. Claire was sure she had stopped breathing when she'd heard the news, but she soon regained her speech.

"Sorry, what?"

Doctor Maddison smiled and cleared his throat.

"I checked it twice, just to make sure I wasn't giving you any false hope." There was another paper sheet in front of him and he slid it over to Leon. "The match is positive in both your cases. Congratulations. You have a healthy baby girl."

The former agent's look was drawn to Claire's face the moment the truth sank in. His redhead was still staring at the sheet on the table in front of her, but her hand held his tightly and he had never felt so connected to her; nor to anyone. They had a daughter.

"But," Claire whispered as her look drifted to Leon. "How? I mean… I didn't give birth to her." She shook her head as a disbelieving hint of a smirk ran over her lips. "How can she be my daughter?"

The face of the doctor in front was a mystery itself. He tilted his head, shrugged a shoulder and frowned.

He had no fucking idea.

"I'm just telling you what the DNA test says," he replied. "Blood doesn't lie."

She could have sworn this was a line from CSI. Leon raked his fingers through his hair as he sat back.

"So," he said chewing on his lower lip, eyebrows shot up. "Can we see her?"

* * *

She was probably the smallest something that had ever survived an attack of an angry B.O.W. The doctors said she was about two months old, although nobody could really determine when exactly she had been born as she had, apparently, been cut out of Claire while she was with Vång. Jill had called to tell them that they'd found notes about the procedure the scientist had followed, putting the child into a high-tech incubator for months after cutting her out of Claire's womb during her recovery. Nobody would have ever survived being born that early, but there was a chance that the little thing had made it thanks to a G-Manes infection. If so, someone had administered her the antidote as well, but that was barely possible to prove. Whatever had happened, the little girl was a miracle herself.

And she was fucking beautiful, Leon thought as he watched her sleeping in the bed, linked to all those monitoring machines. Her cheeks were rosy and soft, like a peach. It was curious how much she looked like Claire and him, all of a sudden. She had Claire's full lips and her chin, but everything from the tip of the nose upwards was his, including the hair. His daughter; Leon chuckled at the thought and looked up to Claire, who was standing on the opposite side of the bed, letting the girl hold her finger like a trophy.

"Can you believe it? We're parents now," she whispered as the warm expression on her face began to ebb. Leon perceived that something wasn't right.

"Claire? What's wrong?"

But the woman just shook her head, a faint smile on her lips, as her free hand curled tightly around the metal bedframe.

"It makes me a little mad that I owe this to him," she mumbled with a shaky voice. Her body stiffened and her voice was low. Claire breathed in before she kept speaking. "Shall I forget that he stole my body and did with it whatever he pleased to hurt the people I love? Maybe he didn't touch Sophie, but he manipulated her to the point that she infected herself with Uroboros. He killed and burnt innocent people and Wesker would have taken over the world hadn't we known that there was an antidote to the G-Manes." An expression of pain appeared on her face as she spoke. Leon reached for her hand. "And even so, our daughter wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. And I'm a little afraid, Leon. What if all this keeps me from loving her like she deserves?"

Leon huffed out a short laugh and took her hand.

"Claire, you're being so stupid right now. How can you believe you won't love her?" he whispered headshaking and smiled comfortingly at her. "You already loved her when you still believed she was Vang's own child with Sophie. Or will you seriously deny that you thought about adopting her yourself if they didn't find any living relatives?"

That statement stole a smile from her. He knew her so well; better than anyone and, as he had stated once, even better than herself. Claire's hand turned in his until their palms met and their fingers entwined.

"You will just do what you always do," Leon kept speaking as they held gazes. "You survive and you live on, taking things as they are, but accepting the good things you find among the ashes. Like the friendship that was born a night of terror."

Claire felt her eyes water as she heard him speak.

"Oh, Leon..."

The blond smirked satisfied as she was responding to his insistence.

"Claire, everybody would agree that Raccoon City was the worst night of our lives. The night everything changed and we lost the world we knew so far." He smiled at her. "I'd thought I was prepared for anything Claire, but I wasn't prepared for what I found in that city that night. And, of course, I wish it hadn't been this way, for the sake of all the people who died and for those whose lives were destroyed. But every time I wish Umbrella hadn't messed with us; one single thought comes to my mind:  _how would my life be without Claire in it?_  And you know what? I don't really want to know."

Claire sniffed.

"We might have met anyway," she whispered but Leon shook his head.

"I came to Raccoon City for a reason, Claire and you know that. If it hadn't been for the murders in the Arklay Mountains, I would have chosen another town to work in and I would have never met that fiery, bossy redhead that was so courageously searching for her missing brother."

They held their looks until Claire huffed out a laugh.

"Was I really bossy?"

Leon laughed.

"Oh, fuck, yes you were," he said. "But you were also the most caring person in that shithole." They laughed together until they ran out of breath. "Claire, I know that you've been through more shit than many people, but, look at her," Leon whispered as he turned his head to the sleeping baby in the bed. "You know perfectly that you will love her, no matter how she was born, because it's what you are. Unconditional love." His hand let go of hers and rose to cup his wife's chin in a soft grip. "You're a mom now; it's what you were always meant to be."

Claire whimpered as she shut her eyes and a tear rolled down her cheek. He talked so well. It was really hard to believe. Had anyone told them some months ago that they would be standing there next to their daughter, he would have taken that someone for an idiot. But there they were.

"I want to thank Ada for this," she whispered and Leon agreed. Ada had helped him many times through the years, but only if it suited herself and her plans. This time, she indeed deserved some gratefulness. However, Ada Wong wasn't someone you just sent a card, an email or even a text message...

"Let's see when she shows up next so we can say thank you."

Claire smirked as her look drifted to Leon's face.

"So... Are you planning on coming back to the States anytime soon?" she asked timidly as crystal eyes threw a pleading look into his direction. Leon huffed out a laugh. He was about to answer when the door behind him opened and Jill and Chris came in.

"Oh, here's our little blonde princess," Chris squealed as he stepped closer to the bed, a bratty smirk on his face. "And his beautiful daughter in the crib."

Jill rolled her eyes as Claire gave her brother a nervous look. Only Leon smiled at his brother-in-law.

"Stop bullying me Redfield, I'm not the one to blame for your tiny penis. That's the roids!"

Chris grinned half-offendedly as he walked over to Claire and pulled her into his hug.

"Congratulations. What a surprise! We couldn't believe it when Maddison told us." He kissed his sister on the hair and rubbed her shoulders. "Well done, Claire."

"I didn't do anything!" the redhead yelped under the pressure of her brother's arms on her. "We just found her, like an Easter-egg."

Jill smiled and put her hand on Leon's shoulder as the sibling hugged.

"Welcome back and congrats, daddy!" She smirked and earned a laugh from the blond.

"Thanks, Jill. Have you finished the clean-up?"

The B.S.A.A. officer nodded and turned to the baby in the bed. "Damn, she's beautiful," she praised and looked at Claire. "Just for you to know, Sherry is overexcited with the news."

"How does Sherry know?" Leon asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Has she sent Jake to spy on us again?"

Jill chuckled.

"Hunnigan called me to verify that their best ex-agent was fine," she said chuckling. "And I had to give her a full update."

Claire smiled shyly at Leon, who huffed amusedly.

"I don't remember the B.S.A.A. and the government so cooperative," he hissed. "You should try that on the field."

"So, Leon," Chris called before he cleared his throat. "Given the circumstances, you're going to stay in New York for a while, I assume."

"Chris, stop!" Claire was trying to get out of his grip as she snarled at her brother. Her look tightly set on Leon, she begged Chris would give up pressing him to give her an answer. Luckily, Leon didn't mind.

"Well," he muttered and looked amusedly at Claire. "If your sister wants me to stay, I don't think I have any reason to leave again."

A warm look spread over Claire's face as she heard him speak. It seemed that, after so many struggles, they were finally granted the happiness they had wished for.

"So," Jill broke the silence. "When can you take her home?"

"Tomorrow," Claire answered and the blonde nodded.

"I see. Knowing you, you'll stay the night here, won't you?" She asked her friend, getting a determined nod from her. Leon did the same.

"We both stay."

Jill shrugged as Chris gave them a proud but slightly disapproving nod. Honestly, both of them looked dirty, wasted and overtired. But he understood that they had other priorities than their own needs.

"I will get you some fresh clothes for the three of you, then." With those words, Jill turned to the door, followed by Chris. "And Summer's old buggy. Since she started walking there's no human being able to put her into that thing."

Leon laughed and turned to Claire, who rolled her eyes.

"Because she's too fast. Nobody catches her," she whispered and Leon laughed even harder. "No shit. Remember the Cerberus? Summer is faster than those."

"Oh my god," he howled and pointed at the baby on the bed. "I hope those are the Valentine genes. I wouldn't want to rush after this thing here."

They chuckled together and made Claire's heart jump. How long had it been since she'd laughed that jauntily for the last time? Way too long, that was sure. She thought of Natalia and how happy the girl would be to hear about their reconcilement and their recent discovery. Just as the teenager came to her mind, someone opened the door. She believed it was Jill or Chris who'd remind them that they had to eat properly before leaving the hospital for good, but who stepped into the room was another well-known face.

"Moira!" she called out in joy before she saw the bitter look on her friend's face. "What's wrong?"

"Claire, oh my god," the black-haired woman shook her head in disbelief as she watched the pair standing next to the bed. "So, it's true. Chris told me you were here and… oh… that is… I'm so happy for you two."

Claire took her hand in hers. Moira was shaking; her make-up ruined. She had obviously been crying, and there was only one reason the cheerful girl would be so broken.

"Moira," she whispered. "Natalia?"

The younger woman grimaced in pain as she slung her arms around Claire and cried into the spot between her neck and shoulder. Claire had, definitely, never seen her like that before.

"She passed away this morning."

So, there went their chance to be entirely happy for just one single day. Claire closed her eyes as she embraced the heavily sobbing Moira.

"I'm so sorry." It was all she managed to say. Natalia was dead. She herself had been given the chance to be a mother the day another woman lost her chance to ever be anything again. Claire opened her eyes and locked them with Leon's, who gave her a sad, yet comforting glance. Moira took a deep breath and freed herself from Claire's grip to turn to the bed.

"Wow, she's…" she whimpered. "She's really cute. Congratulations, you two." She turned back to Claire and sisterly put her hand onto the redhead's cheek. "We need to meet and catch up, okay?"

Claire nodded and sniffed a little.

"I can't believe it," she whispered. "We knew she wasn't doing well, but it's still hard to understand that she's gone."

Moira nodded and turned to Leon.

"I know." She hugged the blond as he gave her his condolences. "Thank you, really. It's good to see you're back, Leon. We were all worried about you two. You're meant to be together, you know? Life is too short to just be mad at each other." She wiped away her tears and turned back to the baby as Leon and Claire exchanged warm glances. "So, does she have a name already?"

The man next to her was about to shake his head at the young woman, but Claire cut him.

"Hannah," she whispered as her eyes darted to her astonished husband. "If you agree, I would like to call her Hannah."

Hannah Kennedy. Didn't sound that bad, he thought, and before he could ask her how she had made that decision all on her own, Moira revealed the reason for Claire's choice.

"Natalia would have loved that name," she said smiling and the redhead nodded.

And just as Claire had chosen the name for Chris' daughter; their own child owed her name to Natalia Burton.

* * *

It was already late afternoon when they came home after a horrendously long day. In the morning Hannah had been released from the hospital after a quick check by the funny old pediatrician and they had rushed to Natalia's funeral right afterwards. Hannah had been the sunshine that helped lift the mood among the grieving. Even Barry, who was taking Natalia's loss worse than anyone, had smiled a little when he held the blonde bundle in his arms.

Claire's apartment was exactly as Leon remembered it; clean, but not entirely tidy. Usually, Claire didn't care much about stuff that lay where it didn't belong as long as it wasn't going to grow a new ecosystem on it. They had quick showers and started preparing the apartment for Hannah's first night home. Chris had come in the morning to arrange the unused travel crib they had gotten for Summer for all those long-planned but never-made weekend trips to the woods. Jill was happy someone would finally use it; for Claire and Leon it was the perfect solution before they decided what to do next.

"So, maybe we shall continue the search for a house where we left it last year," Leon suggested as he tried to make Hannah open her mouth to the baby bottle. "Oh come on, precious! This looks so tasty!"

Hannah laughed at him and made his heart melt.

"I get it, you want pizza, right?" he said nodding and made Claire laugh. The redhead was just bringing her homemade pizza to the table and proceeded to cut it into slices.

"Well, I don't think that the houses I saw back then are still available, but who knows." She served each of them a generous slice and pushed the full plate towards Leon, who had finally managed to make Hannah drink.

"Very good," he exclaimed laughing and turned to Claire. "I don't entirely suck at this."

The redhead laughed. Of course, he didn't. Generally, girls of any age adored Leon Kennedy; how would his daughter be an exception?

"Anyway," she said. "By now this apartment fits the three of us."

Leon nodded.

"Yeah, at least until she starts crawling. But that doesn't mean that we shouldn't begin searching."

"Yeah, tomorrow," Claire replied and yawned widely.

After dinner, they bathed Hannah together and chose one of the cute rompers Jill had brought for her niece before putting her to sleep. Luckily, Hannah seemed to be even more tired than her parents. She closed her eyes as soon as she put her head against Leon's chest as he carried her to the crib.

"Sleep well, darling," Claire kissed her daughter's forehead, before Leon laid her down. A part of him hoped she would keep sleeping, the other one wished she'd wake up so he could see her eyes once again before he went to bed himself. She didn't wake; Claire smiled.

"She's exhausted," Leon said chuckling and a little disappointed before he turned to Claire and smiled at her. She looked almost majestic under the impact of the recent revelations. He couldn't resist taking her hand and kissing it. "I'll get ready for bed now," he said as he slowly turned to the door. "You stayin' awake?"

Claire nodded softly.

"I don't think I can sleep yet. Too many things have happened these days."

Leon gave her a smirk. He'd have suggested a glass of Scotch or two to make her sleep, but Claire was the one who dealt with these things rather with a cup of tea than with drinks.

"If there's anything I can do for you, let me know," he said and grabbed the handle.

As she heard his offer, Claire, who'd turned back to the crib for a second, could only think of one thing she'd want him to do for her. Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath and gathered all her courage.

"You could sleep with me tonight."

The silence that followed was awkward, almost frightening. Leon slowly shifted back toward her and checked how serious she had been about her petition.

She was goddamn serious.

He had never loved and feared anything so much. Swallowing down the saliva in his mouth, he let go of the handle and lowered his hands as he stood still. Claire gave him a curious look over her shoulder and turned toward him

"I mean," she whispered. "If it's not too much to ask and if you feel like it, but I understand if you don't."

A smile rushed over his lips, barely touching it.

"Aren't you tired?" It was all he could ask. Claire shrugged a shoulder.

"Exhausted, but I think I've waited long enough."

There was so much pain in her voice, but also so much hope. Leon smiled as he slowly walked towards her, looping his arm around her waist when he was close enough. Pulling her into him, he took the chance to remove some hair from her white face and gently brushed her temple with his lips.

"Of course, I feel like it, Claire," his speech was hardly a breath. Claire shut her eyes and he took the chance to place a smooth kiss onto her lid. "I always want you." The redhead breathed in deeply as she slowly looked into his face again. "But what I said back then is true. I don't want to hurt you."

She wetted her lips. Leon's arms still held her comfortably close.

"You won't. You can't," she replied and shook her head. "I love you, Leon. You can't hurt me; not you. I love you. I want to be touched if it's you." Her hands ran up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down until her lips reached his. "You were right back then. I wasn't ready. But I am ready now. Please," she breathed against his mouth. "Let me get rid of the thought that you're not the last man who touched me." Those words made him shiver a bit, but it was what she said afterwards that simply destroyed him. "And that I'm not the last woman who touched you." Claire caught his lips in a deep kiss, rolling her tongue gently into his mouth, searching for the touch of his. They kissed until they ran out of air, until they nearly choked on their pleasure, and Claire pulled back, completing the caress with one last peck onto his mouth. "I want to be your last one, Leon. I want to be your only one."

His both hands ran up her body, from the waist, over her chest and shoulders up to her neck, and cupped her jaw. As he stared into her eyes, so determined and strong, he thumbed over her lower lip.

"You are the only one, Claire." He reached for her hands around his shoulders and put them onto his chest. "Where it matters, you are the only one."

She let out a little sob and pressed their mouths back together in another desperate and hungry kiss. Leon let go of her hands to touch her waist again, pushing their bodies together as if they were meant to be one. And maybe they were. The redhead let out a gasp of surprise as Leon pushed her backwards onto the mattress and climbed onto her.

"Claire, I missed you so much."

Oh, yes, he had missed her. Claire could feel every inch of longing pressing hard against her hips and she loved him for it.  _Get hard for me_ , she had begged in that hospital room, and now he was. With a grunt, Leon drove his teeth into the silken curve between her neck and shoulder and stole her breath — but not her voice. A short, high-pitched shriek found its way out and made her freeze. She had nearly forgotten that they weren't alone in the room. Leon pressed his hand onto her mouth and put a finger onto his own, smirking lips. They waited, listening, but the baby in the crib kept snoring quietly.

Claire giggled in relief.

"I think we can't do that here," she whispered and Leon nodded.

"Couch?"

Claire chuckled.

"Want to feel nostalgic?" she asked smirking as she ran her fingertips over his upper arm. Leon laughed. The couch always made their first, clumsy time come up again. He climbed off the bed and pulled Claire after him out of the bedroom.

They turned out the lights and let the room bathe in the bright shine of the moon as they knelt on the couch. Claire's eyes fell shut as Leon pulled her closer, cupped her chin and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her nose and eventually found her lips again. She held onto his strong shoulders; otherwise, she'd faint, she thought. Their lips still locked, she gave in to the pure pleasure he was offering her. When she couldn't press him harder against her own body, she dug her fingernails into his flesh until he yelped into her mouth. Satisfied, she led her hands to his collar and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Torturously slow; that was how she undid his shirt button by button to reveal his smooth skin. Leon, in the meantime, kept stroking the curve of her neck and went over her shoulder blades and down to her waist. How perfectly the curve fitted his grip. Once the last button was undone, Claire broke their kiss and twirled her tongue over his collarbone down to his chest as her hands pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Leon moaned as the redhead found his left nipple and bit it gently. He used his chance to hook his finger into the left straps of her top and bra and pulled them down. Bending over, he kissed her shoulder as soon as Claire sat upright.

"Touch me," she whispered and took his hand to lead it to her breast. She tilted her head back as Leon traced a line of kisses over her collarbone as he thumbed over her still covered nipple. A moan released itself from her throat as he removed the straps on the other shoulder too and rolled her top down her breasts. Afraid she could feel cold, he quickly covered her with his mouth and hands.

"I love you," he gasped against her skin and climbed off the couch. Kneeling in front of her, the turned Claire's hips to his face and smirked. Her hand reached for the backrest of the couch as she saw him unzip her pants and peel them off her thighs. "You're so beautiful."

She laughed and closed her eyes, shivering in expectation as Leon tossed the clothing away and slid his hand up to the back of her left knee and held it up. That look; that hungry look of his; it drove her crazy. Claire sucked in a breath as Leon turned his mouth to the inner of her thigh and began to kiss his way down; from her knee to the edge of her cream-colored panties. Leon chuckled as she gasped his name and carefully slid his hands down the curve of her bottom to remove her underwear. The tension of the moment stole her breath and made her cry out as Leon lowered his mouth onto her belly button and ran his tongue over the line to her delicious mound, held in a curly, dark red.

"What are you doing?" she gasped as he inhaled deeply, so close to her spot.

"I want to breathe you in," he whispered before he gave her a soft bite right upon her slit. She still smelled like he remembered her. Vanilla and Patchouli; the scent of her shower gel lingered on her skin and captivated him. How often had he dreamed of having her like this again? He hovered his lips over her labia and made her cry out.

"Oh, god!" Claire yelped as Leon stroked his tongue over her spot up to her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Claire panted out a breath as she scissored her legs around his shoulders and he lifted her butt to his mouth. He wanted to drown in her, dip his tongue into her hot wetness and savor her entirely. Claire raked her hand through his hair and, not really accidentally, pushed him a little deeper into her. His beard stubble scratched and tickled over her exposed skin and the pain and pleasure of it nearly made her come. Leon chuckled against her spot as he heard her moan and licked once again over her lips before his teeth sunk into the flesh above her clit again. "Oh, god, right there." And right there he went. His hands travelled over her stomach and up to her breasts, cupping them gently. One in each hand, he rolled his thumbs over the tip. She cried out, and she couldn't have made him feel prouder. Claire curled a fist into the cushions of the backrest as her ankles hit his shoulder blades and pushed his face further into her. She came screaming for more.

Leon looked up, his lips and chin completely infused in her, and gave her a wide smile.

"Good?" he asked and she opened her eyes to him, lust and desire written all over her face.

"Perfect, so far," she panted and grabbed his neck, pulling him into a wet, deep kiss, and licking her own flavor from his lips. Eager hands reached for his belt. Not without stroking him through his pants before, she carefully undid his zipper and pulled down both remaining layers with a determined nudge. His erection jumped right into her waiting hand. Leon moaned into her mouth as Claire laid her fingers around him and began to stroke. "So, what's next?" She giggled against his lips. "You're ready? I'm waiting."

And he didn't want to leave her waiting any longer. Reaching for her thighs again, he pulled her closer to the edge of the couch and knelt between her legs.

"Will you tell me if there's anything you don't enjoy?" he asked, giving her a dark look. He was so goddamn serious about not hurting her that it made her heart speed up. Claire smiled and kissed him passionately.

"I will," she promised and clung to him like a koala as he drove his length into her burning heat. His hands on her hips, he led her into his own pace; a deep, steady rhythm that intended to break them both with pleasure. Claire turned her head and bit his ear, suckling on the lobe until he gasped. Their bodies reunited and felt like they had never been separated. Soulmates they were, and they knew each other so well that no words were needed between them.

Leon dropped her onto the couch again and his head onto her chest, catching her breast and licking over it. Claire let out a soft cry when he used her tongue on her. She arched her back and lifted a leg over the blond's shoulder to feel him deeper inside her. She wanted more; every single inch of him. He looked at her like she was a goddess. Yes. Everything about him screamed he was hers; and she definitely was his, too.

Claire dropped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut and Leon couldn't bear it. Stroking her cheek with his fingertips, he began to speak to her.

"Claire, darling, don't." He leaned into her and kissed her mouth; a kiss to which she responded eagerly. "Don't. Look at me." And she opened her eyes again. "I want you to see me when I come in you; when I fill you up."

Could she have loved him more? She laughed out loudly as he spoke to her in his dark, husky voice. She looked at him; right into those beautiful, blue eyes. The same eyes he had given to their daughter. Wasn't he perfect? Could she have wished for anything else? Claire cried out loudly when he turned her slightly to her right and bent over her again, giving the right amount of friction to her clit and making her cry in pleasure. She bucked against him as she held his gaze in the moonlight, waiting for the heat to burn them both away.

"Oh, Leon, yes," she moaned as she felt her climax approach. She slung her arm around him again and scratched over his shoulder. Claire crowned the moment with another loud moan as her second orgasm ran through her body. "Come on, baby! Fill me up!"

And Leon laughed. He laughed as he came, holding on tightly to Claire's stretched leg. He rubbed his pelvis against her with every one of the last deep thrusts, until he finished deep inside her with a low grunt.

He hadn't stopped watching her.

They gasped for air. Leon let go of Claire's leg and leaned down to kiss her again.

"Thank you," she whispered and he gave her the sweetest smile she'd ever received. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied as he nuzzled her neck. "I can't believe we're here."

Claire laughed as she slung her arms around him.

"Believe it," she whispered as her fingers stroked softly over his hair. They held each other in the shine of the moonlight, cherishing those small moments of intimacy. Leon was still inside her, growing soft as they both relaxed. They could have stayed like that forever hadn't they remembered that it was a freezing night in January, that they lay naked on the couch and that…

"Fuck, Claire, we forgot the condom."

Leon hissed at their mindless behavior, raking nervously his fingers through his hair as he looked down onto Claire. Damnit, he had never been that stupid. However, the redhead just chuckled.

"I thought you wanted to fill me up, Mr. Kennedy." She laughed; he didn't. Of course, he didn't. The last news Leon had about a child in her body was that it would be mutated by a virus and eat her from the inside out. As soon as she saw the fear on his face, Claire quickly sat up, taking his hands in hers. "It's okay, darling. It's okay. We didn't have the time to catch up, but…" She smiled widely at him. "I'm clean, don't worry."

Leon frowned at her, headshaking.

"Clean?"

Claire nodded smiling.

"Rebecca believes it was the antidote to the G-Manes. It cured or neutralized or  _whatevered_  the T-Phobos in me. I'm virus free now. 100% human and I can get pregnant again without risk."

Leon blinked at her. A smile appeared on his face as the news sank in and he pointed to the bedroom.

"Does that mean we could have just made another one of those?"

And Claire laughed as she pulled him closer and kissed him.

"Well," she said as she broke the kiss. "I'm pretty far from ovulating right now and given my age, that will be a difficult task anyway. But, well, there is no goal Leon Kennedy couldn't achiev, right?"

Leon nibbled on her lower lip as his hands drifted down her curves.

"Challenge accepted!"


	27. Epilogue

"Fatherhood looks good on Leon."

Saturdays had become their favorite days of the week; when they all gathered together in the back garden of the Kennedy property to have BBQs and exchange news and gossip, like completely normal people. Had anyone told them they would ever get to live such a peaceful situation, they would have taken them for a madman.

Jill sipped her coffee in delight, sitting in an armchair on the porch next to Claire, and watching amused how the famous B.O.W. fighter Captain Chris Redfield and special government agent Leon Kennedy were having an imaginary cup of tea with Chris' daughter in her pink plastic princess castle. The two men wore princess tiaras on their heads and praised the delicious tea, much to the amusement of little Summer, who screamed in excitement every time her daddy pulled up the empty cup and made slurping sounds. Leon was, in the meantime, keeping Hannah busy playing peek-a-boo with her, and nobody could tell who of them was enjoying it more.

Claire chuckled.

"Yes, it does," she agreed with her friend. "Oh, by the way, I got news from Sherry. She called me yesterday to tell me how beautiful Japan is." She laughed.

"Hadn't she been there some years ago?" Jill looked back at Claire.

"Just for work. Travelling for work isn't the same, you know."

"Not the same as a honeymoon, no. Unless you're married to your job." The two women gave each other amused glances.

It had been eight months since Claire and Leon had recovered their little daughter from the farmhouse and things had found a certain stability in all their lives. Or whatever stability meant to them.

Leon had returned to the D.S.O., but had traded the active duty for the training of new recruits, a job he had only taken reluctantly, for the sake of his daughter, mostly. He had accepted a regular job with set schedules to spend more time with his family. Some presentations and theory, a lot of practical training and too much report writing were on his daily list of tasks, something he did so well he was already training the elite among the future agents.

Or what someone else had assigned as the elite.

Personally, Leon believed that the training had been much harder when he had started twenty years before.

Claire was still working for TerraSave's Supply Chain Management, feeling very comfortable in that department. However, she was only working part-time, so she could spend most of her time with Hannah.

As promised, Chris had taken the Blue Umbrella surveillance job O'Brien had chosen for him, which should have been a lot of observation, asking and questioning and report writing, helping him spend more time with his daughter. However, when the team had started investigating the case of a family in Louisiana who apparently had a mind-controlling B.O.W living with them he hadn't been able to take a step back and had led their operation.

Jill found it funny. She had sensed it wouldn't be easy to take Big Redfield away from the field. She herself had returned to the B.S.A.A. as well, mostly busy with the Investigation department and supervising of training of new recruits, but every now and then she still went on minor assignments in North and South America.

There was always someone available to look after the girls. Also, most Saturdays, they could get together and have lunch or dinner, talk about their most recent discoveries and adventures. Jake and Sherry used to join them whenever they could, but the young couple hadn't returned from their honeymoon yet.

Summer ran over the grass while Chris began placing steaks onto the grill. The grease sizzled loudly and soon filled the air with a delicious smell.

"How are you and Chris?"

Claire's question made Jill sigh in regret. She put her cup onto the table and laughed.

"We get along well. We're fine now, just like we were before." She shrugged. "He and Amanda are…well, he says they're keeping it friendly. But, honestly, I haven't seen him so happy in a long time."

Claire watched her friend as she spoke. Although reluctantly, they had decided to put an end to their marriage, and it seemed to be the best for their relationship. They lived together, like friends with a child, but that seemed to be all.

"He was happy with you," she whispered. "And I know how hard it was for him to let go of you." She reached for Jill's hand and just held it. "Aaand Rory?"

Jill chuckled blushing.

Once Chris and she had announced their divorce, Rory Williams had finally had the courage to ask her out. He was like a century younger than her and they had absolutely nothing in common besides their jobs, but Rory seemed to be exactly what Jill needed.

"Oh, he's awesome." Shrugging, she laughed. "He's full of energy, if you know what I mean, and Summer adores him. Also, he's not as complicated as your brother."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"After Chris, nothing is complicated anymore."

They laughed.

Leon waved to them from the grill and Claire got up.

"I will bring the salad before Chris gets the chance to burn the steaks."

* * *

"It's alright, I get it," Leon said rubbing a towel over his blonde locks while Claire and Hannah stared through the window into the now flooded garden. "Outbreaks, infections, rain. Someone up there doesn't want us to enjoy peaceful family dinners."

Jill laughed in the kitchen.

"At least the rain doesn't try to eat us alive."

" _Eat laif_." Summer repeated her mother's words, causing Chris to look seriously at his daughter and shake his head.

"You better start learning to say normal things like  _pie_ and  _candy_  or the other kids will fear you."

Claire giggled as she whispered to her daughter in her arms.

"You can be as feared as you want. I'm going to tell you the tale of Mr. X tonight."

Hannah made a bubbling sound as she leaned against Claire's shoulder and fell asleep. Leon watched them from the armchair he'd dropped into and smiled proudly at his girls.

"Alright, we better get going. Jill, Summer, come on. Claire, see you tomorrow then," Chris said nodding to his sister as they grabbed everything. Once Jill had dressed Summer in her orange summery raincoat, she took her into her arms and the three left the house.

"I'm going to take Hannah to bed," Claire murmured and kissed Leon on the cheek as she walked into the nursery. His eyes followed her until she disappeared, right before he decided to walk after her. He found her bent over the crib, singing to the girl.

"I thought it would be the tale of Mr. X," he said laughing as she turned and approached him slowly, letting him pull her into his grip. "So, what was that superimportant thing you needed to tell me this morning right before your brother showed up?"

Claire chuckled.

"Right. So, as you know I went to see my doctor this morning," she explained.

"Because of those headaches, yes." He frowned. "Everything alright?"

The redhead nodded.

"Yeah, he says it's just because of the weather." She laughed and kept nodding shyly. "And the pregnancy."

Leon felt his jaw drop open so wide he thought he'd dislocated it.

"Pregnancy." He repeated.

"Pregnancy," Claire confirmed chuckling.

"How long?" A smirk ran over his lips.

Claire tilted her head to the right and quirked an eyebrow.

"Five weeks."

Narrowed eyes tried to remember what special occasion they had honored so much.

"Sherry's wedding?"

She laughed shrilly and pushed her face into her palms.

"What a night, huh?" she laughed and kissed him softly on the mouth. "Happy?"

He looped his arms around her and pulled her closer.

"Couldn't be happier, Mommy."

Claire laughed.

"Congrats, daddy. Looks like the challenge has been completed."


End file.
